Journey to the North
by Kendis
Summary: (Post-BG II) A story of love, duty, and the two people who found themselves caught between them....
1. Prologue

**Journey to the North**

* * *

**Prologue**

Sir Anomen Delryn scanned the horizon with troubled eyes, searching. He paid no attention to the constant fall of snow that swirled into his eyes and dusted his hair and beard with a faint whiteness that, from a distance, made him appear much older than his twenty-six years. On approach, however, the face was still smooth, the eyes still clear, though not so blindly idealistic as they had been.

Anomen had seen many things, had been many places, and though his faith in the god Helm remained unshaken, the line between light and darkness had blurred slightly in the past year, and he followed his Lord now with the understanding that shadows cannot exist without the light, and it is a long night of darkness that makes one grateful for the sunrise.

The great war-horse snorted beneath him and began to paw the wintry ground. Anomen murmured to it in his low, smooth voice and patted its neck with his free hand, his eyes never leaving the skyline. There had been no sign of activity for some time, and it was that, perhaps, that troubled him more than anything else. Ice trolls were known neither for patience nor cunning, and in the beginning, their attacks had been predictably frequent and chaotic.

Over the past few weeks, however, the creatures had begun to show more… _thought_ in their raids, coming in the hours just before dawn when the fires had faded to glowing embers and the watch was drowsy with cold. Their last assault had come during a violent snowstorm, when the men had sought a desperate shelter in the rough huts that formed their small battle camp. The trolls had come silently, a dozen or more, invisible in the swirling snow until they managed to enter the camp itself. The soldiers were taken off guard, unprepared. The battle had been won, but only barely, and the clerics had wandered the camp for many hours after that, using nearly every spell, potion, and scroll at their disposal to quiet the cries of the wounded and dying.

Anomen sighed softly and bowed his head in an unspoken prayer for the fallen. There had been many, too many, in spite of everything that could be done. Good men, every one. Many he had known since his days as a squire, and even more he had come to call comrade and brother over the past few months. He remained there in silence for some minutes, praying for their safe return to their God, and for their forgiveness.

Many moments passed. Then Anomen heard the faint, muffled rhythm of hoofbeats coming toward him through the snow. As they grew louder, he lifted his head and turned his eyes in the direction of the sound. A lone figure approached, dressed in the shining silver armor of the Order.

Sir Duncan Quartermaine was an older man, some ten years older than Anomen, tall and broad-shouldered, and still fair of face. The eyes were strong and gray, the deep black hair only faintly streaked with the first light shadows of age.

Anomen nodded faintly as he approached, then returned his gaze to the horizon, saying nothing as Duncan came nearer, then stopped to hold his mount beside Anomen's own. They sat in silence for some time, until at last the younger man spoke quietly, tugging on the reins as his horse once again began to pull against the bit.

"Still no word?"

Duncan shook his head, turning his own eyes to the distance. "None, my Lord."

"Then we can only assume…."

Duncan nodded, and Anomen fell silent. The snow began to fall more steadily, giving the landscape an almost dreamlike quality that somehow made both men grow uneasier. The sky darkened under a growing cover of thick clouds, and the wind began to swirl the snow before them in a ghostly dance.

At last Anomen sighed wearily and lowered his head, rubbing a large hand over his face and surrendering to the fatigue and discouragement that he had desperately been trying to ignore. He longed desperately for a warm bed, a roaring fire, the feeling of a slender figure in his arms, the beautiful green eyes that set his heart to burning within him. But she was a fortnight's ride away, and he had not been able to send a letter for weeks.

Duncan spoke gently, apparently sensing the direction of Anomen's thoughts. "My Lord, we could send another…"

Anomen lifted his head and shook it slightly, interrupting. "There are no others. We can spare no more men. We lost too many in the last assault, and we know not what comes in _this _storm. There is something in the air, an evil that I cannot see, but it is there, Duncan." His brow furrowed and his eyes searched the snow. "It is there, and it is coming."

---

Duncan Quartermaine knew better than to doubt his commander. Though young, Sir Anomen Delryn was experienced, and had seen more in the past year than most of the Order had seen in twenty years of service. He liked Anomen, respected him. Duncan had watched the boy grow into a man, and was more than a little pleased with the result. The Anomen of recent months had lost much the arrogance of his youth, and had found instead a mature confidence that inspired. The men followed him without question.

Duncan nodded at Anomen's warning. "Then your orders, my Lord?"

Anomen paused for a long moment. When at last he spoke, his voice was low and determined. "Two hour watches, four at each entrance. We will build fires behind each gate. Those who are not on watch sleep in their armor. Not comfortable, I grant you, but…" He smiled grimly and let his voice fade.

Duncan nodded. "I shall see it done, Sir."

Anomen turned his eyes back to the horizon. "Helm guard us, Duncan, or we are lost."

"Helm guard us all, Anomen."

Anomen nodded vaguely. Duncan turned his horse back toward the small gathering of tents and rough wooden huts that was their camp. He urged the animal forward with a word, glancing over his shoulder as he heard Anomen speak. The young knight's voice was little more than a whisper on the wind.

"Helm guard her if I cannot return. Forgive me, my love…."

Duncan watched Anomen a moment longer, then turned back and made for camp.


	2. Chapter I

**Journey to the North**

* * *

**Chapter I**

Kaelis slowly turned the folded paper over in her fingers, a faraway look clouding her eyes. The parchment was worn and dog-eared, soft with many readings, and although the script was still clear and dark, she did not need to look at the letter to know what was written within. She knew it by heart, and heard his low, smooth voice speaking the words to her even in her sleep.

_My dearest Kaelis,  
__  
How my heart leaps within me even at the sight of your sweet name! It is ever in my mind and on my lips, though I must admit that my lips crave more than the sound of my own voice, whatever your sister may say. I carry your letter against my heart, which aches at our parting, but sings in the hope that this campaign will soon be at an end, and I can return to your side and to your arms. The battle goes well, though the days are long, and the campfires not nearly enough to drive the bitter cold from one's bones. But the men remain cheerful, and…. _

Kaelis looked up as Imoen slid gracefully into the seat across from her own, saying nothing in greeting. The movement of Kaelis' fingers slowed, then stopped. Imoen remained motionless in her chair. Motionless and silent. That, in itself, spoke of trouble.

Imoen's eyes flicked briefly to Kaelis' face, then focused intently on her fingers, which began to twitch, then drum quietly on the large wooden table. It was a nervous habit that Kaelis had seen before, and her heart sank. She said nothing, however, and waited quietly for what seemed an eternity before Imoen looked back up, an unspoken apology shining from her soft brown eyes.

"Aran hasn't heard anything."

Kaelis simply nodded and looked down at the letter, turning it over again in her fingers. She could feel burning tears pricking at her eyes, and she forced herself to take a deep breath before she spoke. Though she tried to hide it, she knew that her voice betrayed the lack of sleep that was mirrored in the dark circles under her eyes.

"And Renal?" She didn't look up.

Imoen shook her head.

Kaelis let the letter slip from her fingers, watched as it fell to rest on the table without a sound. The crimson seal stood out starkly on the faded yellow parchment. It was broken in half, and only the head of the Delryn eagle could be seen, the imprint of Anomen's signet ring. She sighed wearily and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and covering her face with her hands.

It had been weeks. And still she knew nothing.

---

Imoen bit her lip and looked down at her hands, wishing she had been able to say something, _anything_ that would have brought a smile to her sister's face. It had been so long since she had seen Kaelis smile. A _real_ smile. Not since Anomen had left for the north, and that had been months ago.

But there was nothing to say. The Shadow Thieves had heard nothing. But Duruth'Usk was far to the north, they said, and out of their immediate sphere of influence. Certainly, they would let Imoen know as soon as they heard anything, but the Order of the Radiant Heart was well-known for championing lost causes, and….

Kaelis let out a long shuddering breath, but did not lower her hands. Imoen blinked quickly against the tears that pricked at her eyes and threatened to fall.

"Has Jaheira come back yet?" she asked gently, hesitant to break the heavy silence.

Kaelis nodded faintly, passing her fingertips over her eyes before letting her hands fall to the table. "A few hours ago."

Imoen said nothing, waiting for her sister to continue. Kaelis finally looked up at her and smiled thinly. "It would appear that our… _incident_ with the Harpers has had an unfortunate cooling effect on any relationship we might wish to have with their organization."

Imoen arched a questioning eyebrow and tilted her head to one side. Kaelis looked back down at her hands, sighing softly.

"They wouldn't tell her anything."

Imoen lifted her head and groaned. "I never did like them much, anyway. They're arrogant, pretentious, _totally_ unreasonable, they have a _complete_ lack of _any_ kind of sense of humor, and…."

"Gorion was a Harper."

Imoen smiled wickedly. "I know."

Kaelis shook her head and chuckled softly. For an instant, the flickering light from the lamp seemed just a little bit brighter, the experiences of the past few years almost forgotten in a moment of pleasant memory.

It was not to last long, however. After a moment, Kaelis' tired laughter faded into a weary sigh, and the two of them returned into an uncomfortable silence.

Imoen finally took a deep breath and looked at her sister, not wanting to ask the question that _had_ to be asked. "Kae, have you ever considered that maybe Anomen is…."

"No."

Imoen nodded slowly, looking down. She knew it was going to hurt, but….

She bit her lip and looked up again, hesitantly. "Kaelis, no one has heard anything for weeks. There haven't been any messengers, any letters. You know that." She looked involuntarily at the faded letter on the table, then back at Kaelis, her voice softening. "Look, I want to believe that Anomen is alive as much as you do. But Kaelis, even Anomen isn't invincible, no matter what he…."

"He's alive, Imoen." Kaelis looked up, and Imoen could see a faint shimmer in Kaelis' eyes that spoke of unshed tears. But the exhaustion in Kaelis' voice was carefully hidden, and her slender fingers twisted around each other to cover the fact that they were trembling. Imoen nodded and took an unsteady breath, fighting back her own tears. If Kaelis wasn't going to cry, then she wasn't either. And the gods knew that of anyone, Kaelis deserved to cry.

In her life, Imoen had only ever seen her sister's beautiful face marred with tears on three occasions. The first was as Kaelis pulled Imoen away from Gorion's lifeless body in the forest east of Candlekeep, the day that their journey to Baldur's Gate had begun. The second was in Spellhold, when they held each other in their arms and cried together for sisters lost and found.

The third was in the catacombs under Athkatla.

At last Imoen smiled and nodded slightly. "Okay, Kae. Okay." She let out a deep sigh and ran both hands through her hair, recently returned to its original soft brown.

"So what do we do now? No one knows where Anomen and his men are, exactly. Not Keldorn, and it's killing him. Not even Sir Ryan, and _he_ should know, if no one else does. But you talked to him, remember?"

Kaelis nodded, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully. When she spoke again, her voice was still tired, but her eyes were clear, and shone with grim determination. "Sir Ryan may not know where Anomen is..." She smiled and raised her eyebrows.

"But he knows where he _was_."

Imoen grinned widely. She recognized the tone in Kaelis' voice, and she knew instinctively what it meant. Kaelis only picked fights when she had to, but when she did….

_Look out, world, _Imoen thought with a laugh. _We're back.  
_


	3. Chapter II

**Journey to the North**

* * *

**Chapter II**

Sir Ryan Trawl handed his gloves and helmet to the servant without so much as a glance. Instead, his eyes were roaming the enormous front hall of the Delryn Estate, taking in with a note of appreciation the general feeling of wealth that surrounded him without crossing that delicate line that borders on the garish. It was comfortable, well-kept, and elegant.

That certainly was not Lord Cor's contribution to the decor. The man had loved money and prestige at the exclusion of all else, and had found every chance he could to show the extent of his success. Perhaps that was why he had been so angry when young Anomen had wanted to join the Order. A life of service and sacrifice was something that the old man could not have understood, much less supported. He wanted an heir, someone who would appreciate what he had created, and who would strive to make his small empire greater still.

Sir Ryan smiled to himself. Instead, Lord Cor had been given Anomen and Moira. A lovely daughter, full of kindness and laughter, and a son that held within himself the potential for a greatness that Lord Cor could never have realized. It was on more than one occasion that Sir Ryan had wished that Anomen had been his own son, instead of his squire.

The thought of the young knight brought the paladin suddenly back to his purpose, and he looked around for the servant that had taken his things. He sighed in frustration as he realized that he had been left quite alone, with only the gentle song of the sparkling fountain to keep him company.

He was about to call out when he noticed a figure descending the staircase to his left. He turned and smiled as Kaelis stepped down the last few stairs, then watched in silence as she easily crossed the distance between them, her boots making only the faintest whisper on the polished stone floor.

"Good evening, Sir Ryan."

Sir Ryan bowed slightly. "Lady Kaelis."

She returned his bow with a faint nod, but did not speak for several moments. Instead, she watched him with an unreadable expression, and Sir Ryan realized again just how lovely Anomen's young companion was. Her long cinnamon-colored hair had been pulled back into a loose braid, but several stubborn locks had escaped their confinement, and fell around her smooth ivory face in shining curls. She was tall, nearly as tall as himself, and she met his gaze easily. Her eyes were a brilliant shade of green.

There were some within the Order that claimed that Anomen had been… _bewitched_ by the lady, hypnotized by some dark spell that lurked deep within the emerald pools of her eyes. Sir Ryan had laughed at that. It was foolishness. But as Kaelis continued to scrutinize him in silence, Sir Ryan had to admit that even _he_ felt a bit uneasy under the gaze of those haunting eyes.

At last she spoke, a slight smile touching the corners of her mouth. Instantly, Sir Ryan's uneasiness vanished.

"I was just coming to see you, Sir Ryan."

He nodded, letting out a deep breath and returning her smile. "I thought you might be."

Kaelis' smile widened faintly, and she arched a delicate eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. For a moment, he was unsure quite how to begin. There was much to say. With a quiet sigh, Sir Ryan looked at his hands. "The truth of the matter is, My Lady, is that…"

"_Kaelis_."

His eyes lifted quickly at the interruption. In hers, he saw a mixture of amusement and embarrassment, and a faint blush touched her cheeks. Sir Ryan chuckled under his breath. The Lady Kaelis and her companions had become legends along the Sword Coast. She was the daughter of a god, the savior of the city of Baldur's Gate, and still she shifted uncomfortably under any kind of praise.

Sir Ryan bowed deeply, his smile wide. "You will forgive me, my Lady, but I must insist."

She groaned softly and closed her eyes, putting a slender hand to her forehead. "Do you know, Sir Ryan, that even to this day Anomen _frequently_ calls me "my lady?" After everything we've been through. I can't think of how many times I've asked him to stop, but I think he does it just to torment me…." It seemed that her hand began to tremble slightly, only slightly, and her voice trailed into silence.

Sir Ryan waited a polite moment, then cleared his throat. He began gently, "It is of Sir Anomen that I wished to speak to you, my Lady."

She lowered her hand and opened her eyes, and he continued before she could voice the question in them.

"You know that a number of months ago, Sir Anomen left with a regiment of soldiers for the Silver Mountains to the north. He was to look into the disappearance of several Order soldiers in the area, and also to investigate rumors of trouble near the village of Kanfael and the nearby fortress of Duruth'Usk." Kaelis nodded, so he went on. "At first the reports were regular and said nothing out of the ordinary. After a few months, it was a fortnight between reports, then three tendays. Then they stopped altogether. We have not heard from him in nearly three months, nor from any in the regiment he commands. The Order fears what this might mean, and concern now overshadows any reservations we may have had in…."

"Only _now?_" Kaelis' voice was decidedly cool.

Sir Ryan continued quickly. "Concern now overshadows any reservations we may have had in asking the help of those outside the Order in locating and aiding our armies in the North."

There was a long pause, and Sir Ryan felt his earlier uneasiness return. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again quickly, unsure quite how to continue.

Kaelis saved him the trouble. "You're asking for my help, Sir Ryan."

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yes, my Lady."

She paused for a long moment.

"And your superiors? Do they know you're here?""

He hesitated only briefly. "The Order is sending reinforcements to the North in the hope that they will be able to locate and support their brethren."

Kaelis paused again, then shook her head. "But you don't think that will be enough."

Sir Ryan took a deep breath and folded his arms over his chest, looking at the ground briefly before he answered. "Lady Kaelis… The first party of scouts that traveled to Duruth'Usk equaled forty men. A few fighters, clerics, mages. There had been news of trouble, but we could be sure of nothing. When the first reports came in, and we realized for the first time the extent of the problem, we sent another group of men, solders with experience fighting the sorts of creatures that had been described to us in the preliminary reports…."

Kaelis nodded and waited silently for him to go on. He chose his next words carefully. "It was only after _their _reports stopped coming that we approached Sir Anomen with the offer of one hundred men under his command, if he would travel to Duruth'Usk and… _investigate_."

Sir Ryan smiled. "He refused. Most vehemently, in fact. I must tell you that it made for an interesting meeting."

Kaelis smiled faintly. "I don't doubt it."

Sir Ryan chuckled. "There aren't many men who will take on the entire Council, but Anomen Delryn is not the man he was a few years ago." He looked at Kaelis earnestly. "He wanted to take you with him, my Lady. Please believe that. And there were those who agreed with him, myself and Lord Firecam among them, but…." He shook his head and held out his hands helplessly.

"It was only after much… _discussion_ that he accepted the charge, and he left soon for the Northern Lands. As I said, and as I am sure you are already aware, there has been absolutely no contact with Anomen or his men for some months."

Kaelis' voice was scarcely more than a whisper. "I am _very_ aware of that fact, Sir Ryan."

He paused again for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was low and earnest. "Sir Anomen is a valiant knight, my Lady, and has proved himself a great leader. If any Knight of the Order could succeed in Duruth'Usk, Anomen could." He shook his head. "Something has happened. I want to find out what, exactly, that something is."

It was some time before Kaelis spoke. "And what, exactly, is it that you want from me, Sir Ryan?" Her voice was calm, but in her eyes Sir Ryan could see a fleeting glimpse of the pain she was trying desperately to hide.

He spoke in a low voice. "I ride in two days' time to Duruth'Usk with reinforcements. One hundred fifty men." Kaelis opened her mouth to speak, but Sir Ryan continued quickly. "If we ride hard, we can reach the village of Kenfael in a tenday. It is a few days northeast of the city of Baldur's Gate. That is where the trouble began, and near the camp where we last heard from Anomen's patrols."

Sir Ryan paused, then said more quietly, "I would ask that you ride with us, Lady Kaelis. Yourself, and any others that you feel could be of help."

Kaelis said nothing. She closed her eyes for a long moment, then opened them and fixed Sir Ryan with an intense stare.

After what seemd an eternity, he took a step toward her, anxious at her stillness. "Help me find Anomen, Kaelis. Please."

She watched him for several seconds in continued silence, then nodded softly. "We have already made preparations for the journey, Sir Ryan. Imoen and myself. I have also written to Jaheira and Minsc, and have been assured by both of them that they will be in Athkatla before sundown tomorrow."

Sir Ryan let out a sigh of relief. "I cannot express my gratitude, my Lady."

Kaelis shook her head. "You don't need to, Sir Ryan. I am as anxious to find Anomen as you are." The faintest hint of a smile touched her lips. "In fact, I fear that had you _not_ asked us to accompany you on this… _excursion_, you would have found yourself with several shadows very difficult to shake."

Sir Ryan chuckled. "I've no doubt of that, my Lady. Your assistance _and_ your company will be most welcome." He extended his hand, and Kaelis took it. He bowed over it, then stood and looked once again into her eyes.

"We _will _find him, Kaelis."

"I know."

Sir Ryan smiled and released Kaelis' hand. "Then we ride in two day's time. My men and I will be at the north gates of the city in the hour before dawn.

Kaelis nodded slightly. "And we shall be at the north gates of the city an hour before that, waiting."

"Thank you, my Lady."

Kaelis nodded again and looked over Sir Ryan's shoulder. He turned to follow her gaze and saw that the well-trained servant had reappeared at the door, waiting with his gloves and helm. In a moment, he had retrieved them and stood before the open doors of the Delryn Estate. He paused only briefly to look back at Kaelis, who stood in the hall where he had left her, watching thoughtfully. He smiled and bowed softly, then turned and put a foot on the threshold.

"Sir Ryan…?"

He turned, startled at her voice, and the faint tremor he thought he heard within it.

"Yes, my Lady?"

Kaelis paused for a moment, then said softly, "May… Helm guide on our path."

Sir Ryan's smile widened, and he nodded. "Indeed, my Lady. Helm guide us all on our path."

With that, he turned again and stepped into the night.


	4. Chapter III

**Journey to the North**

* * *

**Chapter III**

Kaelis' horse pulled impatiently at the reins, tossing its head with a disgruntled _snort _. It was that hour just before dawn, when the air is clear and crisp and smells of newly-washed earth, and the last thing the horse wanted to do was sit still and wait.

Kaelis murmured gently to the fretful animal, then released the reins with one hand to soothingly stroke the animal's neck. She was as restless as her mount, but there was value in patience, and Kaelis forced herself to take a deep breath and relax. Her eyes did not leave the immense northern gate of Athkatla, however. After a long moment, she became vaguely away of another horse approaching quietly from somewhere behind her.

Jaheira's eyes, too, were fixed on the city gates as she pulled her horse forward. Kaeli's small group had been waiting for nearly an hour. They had checked and rechecked each pack and each weapon as they waited for the sun to rise and announce the start of their journey.

"Sir Ryan is late."

Kaelis shook her head and smiled faintly, taking a deep breath of the clean morning air. "Sir Ryan said that we ride at dawn." She sighed softly and turned her eyes to Jaheira. "The sun has yet to rise."

Jaheira laughed under her breath, making a wry face. "So Imoen has told me. Several times. For one so eager to begin our journey, she certainly did not want to leave the comfort of her bed." Jaheira followed Kaelis' example and took a deep breath of the fresh air. She let it out a moment later in a barely perceptible sigh.

Kaelis returned her gaze to the city gate. The silence was thick, but comfortable, and it was a few minutes before Jaheira spoke again.

"This was Khalid's favorite time of day."

Kaelis glanced quickly at Jaheira, startled by the mention of the druid's dead husband. Jaheira rarely spoke of him, and Kaelis could not remember ever hearing such softness in her friend's voice. It was not unpleasant, just strange. It surprised her. Jaheira did not seem to notice, and continued quietly.

"Nature is quiet, the air clean…." Her voice trailed off, and she smiled, her eyes taking on a faraway look. "He would rise before the sun to watch it climb over the mountains. No matter where we traveled, he would always wake to greet the sun. I… loved that in him."

The druid broke off abruptly and looked down, as though suddenly ashamed of her emotions. She cleared her throat quickly and returned her gaze to the gate. She said nothing more.

Kaelis began gently, "Jaheira, I…."

Jaheira made an impatient gesture and her voice regained its note of sharpness. "I have seen the pain in your eyes, child. You have hidden it well from those who do not know you, but you cannot hide it from me." Jaheira's eyes remained stubbornly on the gate, but they seemed to glisten softly in the rising light.

Kaelis watched her friend for a moment more. She said nothing, and soon turned her eyes to the gate, as well. A few lights had begun to flicker in the dark silhouettes of close-sitting houses, and she could smell on the breeze the faint scent of smoke. Cooking fires. Morning was beginning again in Athkatla.

After what seemed an eternity, Jaheira turned to look at her companion, her voice almost gentle. "We _will _find him, Kaelis."

Kaelis' eyes did not move, but she smiled faintly. "I know." She paused for a moment, then glanced over at Jaheira and smiled. "Thank you."

Jaheira gave an almost imperceptible nod. A moment of silence, and then Kaelis heard the sound of approaching hoofbeats.

Jaheira straightened her slender shoulder. "Sir Ryan comes, child. Be ready." Before Kaelis could say a word, the druid turned her horse and rode away.

- - -

Imoen watched impatiently as Jaheira's horse approached. It took only a moment, but it felt like forever. Imoen's horse was nearly as restless as Imoen herself, but not quite. The horse pulled at the reins and pawed at the ground. Imoen was ready to jump from the saddle and run toward the Silver Mountains on foot, Order or no Order. The waiting was simply driving her crazy. She had never had much patience to begin with, but this was ridiculous.

As Jaheira drew near, Imoen moved her horse forward a few steps and asked quickly, "Are they here?"

Jaheira nodded silently. Imoen let out a little cheer. "It's about time. We've got places to go. We've got people to see. We've got…."

"Butts to _kick _!" Minsc's voice rose in an enthusiastic crescendo. His deep, rumbling bass echoed in the morning air.

Jaheira and Imoen both turned quickly to face Minsc. Imoen was trying not laugh and failing miserably. Jaheira simply rolled her eyes. Minsc sat tall in his saddle, throwing an enormous shadow over Imoen and Jaheira. Imoen giggled at the look of sheer joy on the ranger's face at the prospect of a new evil in need of a good, solid thrashing.

This was going to be fun.

- - -

Kaelis could hear the others speaking behind her, but the majority of her attention was focused on the small group of approaching soldiers. She recognized Sir Ryan at the head, but the other men were knights whose faces she could barely recall, and whose names she could not remember.

Sir Ryan held up a hand as the knights drew near to Kaelis' horse. The other knights slowed and stopped behind him. He continued on, however, and in a moment, he had drawn near enough that Kaelis could see the smile on his face. He bowed over his saddle in greeting, and she nodded slightly in response.

"Good morning, Sir Ryan."

"Good morning, My Lady."

Kaelis smiled, slender hands steadying her horse as it tried to take another step forward. "My friends and I were beginning to wonder if you were coming after all, Sir Ryan, or if we would be saving the world alone."

Sir Ryan laughed, the sound echoing pleasantly in the morning air. "Again, you mean?"

Kaelis joined in his laughter, the color rushing to her cheeks. "Perhaps."

Sir Ryan looked toward the mountains in the east. Kaelis followed his gaze, noting with no little satisfaction that the light was growing brighter, throwing the mountains into sharp silhouette.

Sir Ryan nodded. "The sun rises, the dawn has come, and we are ready to ride." He met Kaelis' eyes and smiled into them. "As promised."

Sir Ryan turned to the Jaheira and the others and bowed over his saddle. Jaheira returned his greeting with a quiet nod. Imoen waved a single tiny hand, grinning widely. Minsc, who had no use for formality, beamed joyously at the paladin and raised his enormous arms in a gesture of triumph. The huge ranger was fairly quivering with anticipation in his saddle, and Kaelis had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

Sir Ryan smiled and looked back at Kaelis. "I supposed that inquiring after your readiness is unnecessary?"

Kaelis laughed softly. "Fairly unnecessary, Sir Ryan."

He nodded, chuckling. "I thought as much. Very well, then. We travel northeast through the Cloudpeak mountains to Nashkel, then north on the coast road until we reach the Friendly Arm Inn south of Baldur's Gate."

Sir Ryan shifted in his saddle, saying quietly, "We would prefer, of course, to avoid the city of Baldur's Gate itself, if at all possible. Relations between that city and the nation of Amn are still rather…" he considered his words for a moment. "_Strained_."

Kaelis nodded her understanding, and Sir Ryan continued. "All of this is subject to change, of course, and as you are certainly more familiar with the northern part of the Sword Coast than are we, I would greatly value any suggestions you may have."

Kaelis shook her head. "It sounds like a good plan. It will be a tenday's ride, perhaps, a fortnight if we run into bad weather. Jaheira is more familiar with than I am with the area around Baldur's Gate, and could perhaps find a quicker route through the forests, but that will not need to be decided until we reach Nashkel."

Sir Ryan smiled, surveying Kaelis' small group of friends and the gathered knights. A sliver of brilliant sunlight peeked over the mountains. Dawn had come.

Sir Ryan looked at Kaelis. "Then we are indeed ready, my Lady. The Order's forces wait on the northern edge of the city, waiting only for the order to depart."

Kaelis shifted her hold on the reins. Her horse snorted impatiently and tossed its head.

"Then give it, Sir Ryan. Time runs short."

Saying nothing more, Kaelis turned her horse and gently kicked at its sides. The animal leapt forward, and within seconds Kaelis had reached the northern gate of the city and flown through, headed toward the northeast and her lost lover. In the space of a breath, her friends were close behind.

Minsc raised a joyful shout. Imoen laughed and lifted her face to the wind. Jaheira cried an oath to Silvanus. Sir Ryan shouted encouragement to his soldiers, and the soldiers' voices rose into a shout of triumph. Even that great noise was quickly lost in the rumble of thundering hooves and beat of sword on shield.

The journey had begun.


	5. Chapter IV

**Disclaimer:**  I own nothing related to Bioware, Interplay, or the Baldur's Gate series other than copies of the games themselves and an overactive imagination.  Thank you.  :)

* * *

**Journey to the North  
Chapter IV  
  
  
**

Kaelis closed her eyes with a sigh, rolling her shoulders. She stretched her neck first to one side, then the other, then let it fall back as she took a deep breath and let it out slowly into the night. She relaxed into the stretch, leaving her eyes closed as she listened to the sounds in the darkness, pulling each one in turn from the quiet symphony to fully appreciate its beauty. 

A wolf called from far away, a mournful song that echoed on the wind, then faded away slowly into nothingness. A moment later, it was answered by another, fainter and further away, and then another, close enough to cause the hair on the back of Kaelis' neck to stand on end.

 She let herself sink down, leaning more fully into the fallen log against her back.  She let her head rest against its rough surface, listening as other cries rose suddenly in the night, a strange conversation that she felt she could understand, if only she had the time to listen. 

There were conversations all around her. The night birds called to each other from shadowy perches high in the tall mountain pines, and crickets seemed to hide in every shadow, their shrill fiddling a constant counterpoint in the natural symphony. She could hear soldiers speaking to each other low voices all around her, standing out sharply among the more natural sounds that reached her ears, but after a time, they too fell into harmony with the birds, the crickets, and the wolves.  Finally she let them all run together completely in her mind in an elegant, complex concert. 

After a moment the sounds of footsteps intruded on her thoughts.   Kaelis opened her eyes and sat up as she saw Sir Ryan approaching her tentatively, a steaming cup held in either hand.  He smiled as she did so and wordlessly offered one of the cups to her. Kaelis accepted it gratefully, cradling the warmth of the cup in her hands as Sir Ryan sat down beside her.  Neither spoke a word, and she did not drink the offered refreshment right away, but looked into it for several moments, struggling to keep her thoughts from drifting elsewhere.

At last she looked up at Sir Ryan, who was watching her with an expression that was at once questioning and apologetic.  Kaelis smiled and looked back down at the cup in her hands, then took a tentative sip.  The wine was sweet, and wonderfully warm, flavored with spices that she could not immediately identify.  She took another sip, then sighed with a smile and sat back against the fallen tree. 

"Thank you." 

Sir Ryan took a short sip from his own cup, and then nodded lightly. "You're quite welcome, my Lady. I noticed that you ate little at supper, and thought you might be in need of something to sustain you. It was a long ride today, the first of many." 

Kaelis nodded and looked into the steaming cup again.  "Too many, Sir Ryan."

***

Sir Ryan watched Kaelis for a moment longer.  He could see the shadowy circles under her eyes, even in this dim light.  She was tired.  He had hoped that the wine would help, but she had taken only a few sips, preferring instead to look into the steaming shadows of the cup, like a fortune teller searching for answers in the mist.

At last the paladin looked toward the far-off glimmer of the campfire, turning his own cup in his hands.

"We set a good pace, my Lady. If this continues, we should easily reach the Friendly Arm Inn before the end of the week. A day to Nashkel, two then, perhaps, to Beregost, and then…." He let his voice trail off into the wind, his clear gray eyes drifting upward to the stars that peered here and there through the tops of the trees. It was idle chat, he knew, but the silence begged to be broken, and he knew that Kaelis would not be the one to break it.

As she had so many times before, however, she surprised him. She looked up briefly, then away into the shadows at the edge of the clearing.  The faraway look had not disappeared from her eyes. She said simply, "Trolls." 

Sir Ryan looked at her, raising his eyebrows. If her speaking surprised him, her words left him absolutely bewildered. "My Lady?" 

She turned her eyes back to his, and her gaze was piercing. He suddenly felt uncomfortable, as though her brilliant emerald eyes were seeing right through his, searching his soul for the answer she knew he would be reluctant to give.

"Trolls. Ice Trolls, specifically." Kaelis shifted slightly, turning to face him, and set her cup down on the ground beside her. "Tell me why the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart is suddenly so interested in the hunting habits of the average Ice Troll." 

There was no avoiding her gaze.  "Innocent lives were being lost, my Lady," he managed hesitantly, tearing his eyes from hers and taking another long drink from the steaming mug.

Her voice was equal parts sable and steel. "Innocent lives are lost every day in the slums of Athkatla, Sir Ryan. On the Promenade, in the streets.  The sewers. Lives much closer to home. Lives that are yours to protect." 

He could not answer, and she said nothing more for some time.  Instead she resumed her previous position and picked up her cup from among the fallen leaves, then took another drink, longer this time.  She sighed softly as she lowered the wine from her lips.  

"What is in Duruth'Usk, Sir Ryan?" 

Sir Ryan looked at her, but said nothing.   In the moonlight, her eyes shone.  More than that, they glittered.  Perhaps with tears, he could not say.  She was still not looking at him.  

Her voice lowered to a whisper. "What is he hiding from me?" 

The note of betrayal in her voice clutched at his heart, and Sir Ryan leaned forward, speaking quickly and in a low voice.

"Kaelis, believe me when I tell you that he would never have done so, had he the choice. As it was, he nearly left the Order for what we asked him to do. But there were no other options. We were completely unprepared for what we found in Duruth'Usk. Only one man among our number had ever seen anything like it." 

"Anomen." 

Sir Ryan nodded. "Anomen." 

Kaelis closed her eyes with an exhausted sigh, shaking her head. A long moment of silence followed. Sir Ryan watched her for several minutes, then dropped his gaze back to the drink in his hands, now gone cold. 

At last she sat up, put down her drink once more, then pushed an auburn curl behind her ear and looked up at Sir Ryan.  "I need to know."

He gave a barely perceptible nod.  "I know."

The barest hint of a smile tugged at Kaelis' lips.  "Then let's start at the beginning, shall we?" 

Another nod, and Sir Ryan slowly set down his cup between his feet.  He shifted his weight and placed his elbows on his knees, interlacing his fingers. It took him a long time to raise his eyes, but finally he looked at Kaelis.  He had to tell her the truth.  She deserved no less.

He began simply, "There was a knight. His name was Melanath…." 

*** 

Imoen stared at Kaelis in disbelief. Even Minsc was quiet, and Jaheira sat staring at the ground, her pale blue eyes clearly troubled. It was a heavy, uncomfortable silence, too heavy and uncomfortable to break easily, and no one had tried. The only sound was the soft crunch of hardened earth under Kaelis' feet as she paced beside the fire, her arms crossed over her chest in an attitude of deep thought. 

Imoen finally shook her head and laughed, a forced laugh that held no mirth. "He's crazy. _You're_ crazy. And Anomen… Well, I _always_ thought _he_ was a little nuts, but…." 

A withering glance from Jaheira cut off Imoen's thoughts abruptly, and the young thief slouched down against the stump with a delicate snort, folding her arms and frowning. Imoen stuck her tongue out at Jaheira, then looked at Kaelis, who had not stopped her rhythmic pacing.  Instead, the young fighter had turned once again to retrace her steps.  It seemed as though she was not even aware of what she was doing, of where she was going.  Her thoughts were obviously far away, and Imoen had little trouble guessing where.

Jaheira shook her head, then followed Imoen's gaze.  "Sit down, Kaelis. You'll wear a track in the earth deep enough to catch the rain." 

Kaelis said nothing, but slowed and stopped, then turned to face the others.  The flames of the small campfire reflected brilliantly in her eyes, giving them an almost unearthly glow. It was a little frightening, but as Imoen glanced up into Kaelis' face, she could still see the worry and pain hidden in their depths.  Imoen's own delicate features lost some of their petulance, and her voice was just a little gentler as she spoke again.

"What was he _thinking_, going off like that?  Without telling you where he was going?  I mean, if I were you…."

Kaelis looked sharply at her sister.  "You're _not._  And he didn't have a choice.  The Order forbade him to tell _anyone_ about his journey to the north, and I expect that by 'anyone,' they _specifically_ meant me."

"Well, that's just… that's… that's just stupid!  After everything you've done for them…."

Another sigh from Jaheira. "Imoen…."

"Well, she _has!"_

"Hush, child!  You're not helping!"

Imoen pressed her lips together and slipped back down into her slouch, but her peevishness was gone. She watched Kaelis with large brown eyes, waited for her to say something, anything. 

"I should have gone with him." 

_Anything but that._

"Kae…." 

Kaelis looked at Imoen, flames still dancing in her eyes. "I _should_ have gone with him."

Imoen frowned.  "He wouldn't have let you."

Kaelis laughed softly, rubbing her arms and glancing down at the ground.  "Since when has that stopped me?"

Imoen grinned.  "Well, it sure isn't now!" 

At that, Jaheira let out a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan, then rose and walked around the fire to where Kaelis stood. The druid's steely eyes watched her thoughtfully for some time. Then her voice held its customary note of sharpness as she began, "Why _didn't_ you go with him, child?" 

Kaelis looked up, then sighed softly and closed her eyes. "You know why, Jaheira." 

Jaheira shook her head sharply and repeated. "Why didn't you, Kaelis?" 

Kaelis opened her eyes and met Jaheira's gaze. After a moment, she spoke, her voice equally sharp.  "I had a responsibility to the people of Suldanesselar, Jaheira. You know that.  Whether or not I chose my part in Irenicus' sick little play, my role was… _unique_. Without my soul, or whatever it was that he thought he took from me, he could never have had the power to do what he did. To _destroy_ what he did. Whether I like it or not, I was partly responsible for the devastation in Suldanesselar. What little I could do to make amends for that… monster's… _rape_ of the Tree of Life…."

Kaelis rubbed her arms again, her voice suddenly tired.  "It had to be done, Jaheira. I had to try to… to repair the damage. I had to bring back the light. If I could…. Whatever I could…. I had to go back.  It was my… duty." Kaelis smiled sadly and looked back at the fire. "Anomen understood that."

"Did he?"

Kaelis looked up sharply, the smile fading.  "Yes, he did."

"Are you so certain?"

Kaelis dropped her arms and took an sharp step toward the druid.  "Yes, I am!  Of all of us, Anomen probably understands the idea of _duty_ more clearly than anyone!  Helm's Beard, Jaheira!  It's been the driving force in his life for the past _ten years_!  He _knew_ I had to stay in Suldenessalar, to make things right!  If I hadn't, if I had left those people to rebuild their lives alone after everything that had happened….  I couldn't do that.  He taught me better than that.  Gorion taught me better than that.  _You_ taught me better than that." 

Jaheira stepped forward and put her hands on Kaelis' shoulders.  "Yes, child.  We did.  But I truly believe the spark of integrity already existed within you.  Gorion and I simply helped you to fan it into a flame.  Anomen helped you to see the fire for what it was, however irritating his efforts may have been in the beginning.  And believe me child, they _were_ irritating."

Kaelis laughed in spite of herself, but said nothing.  Jaheira smiled.  "He _knew_ you had to stay, Kaelis.  He would not ask you to abandon your duty any more than you have asked him to abandon his."   

Kaelis shook her head, but said nothing.

Jaheira tightened her hands on Kaelis'  shoulders.  "He loves you, child.  Even a blind man would be able to see that, for it is in every word that he speaks.  Believe in that, Kaelis, and all will be well."

Imoen made a face.  "Speaking of words that he speaks…  'Helm's Beard,' Kae?  I think you've been spending a little _too_ much time with 'Mr. Honor and Glory.'"  She shuddered lightly.  "Next thing you know, you'll be telling stories about the Hillgnasher Giants and how you killed twenty of them with a wooden spoon…."

Kaelis smiled in spite of herself, shaking her head.  "He never _claimed_ to have killed them with a spoon, Im.  And he _did_ kill two.  With some help…."

Imoen rolled her eyes.  "Yeah, okay."

Jaheira gave Kaelis' shoulders a final squeeze and smiled.  "Now, child, there is much to be discussed." 

Imoen nodded enthusiastically.  "Yeah, so this knight person… Melanath? What are we going to do about him?" 

Kaelis smiled and stepped away from Jaheira with a grateful glance, then resumed pacing, but it was different. She was thinking, planning. 

"Okay…."

Kaelis' voice held an edge of determination, and Imoen grinned at the sound. This was when her sister meant business, and then… _Ooooh boy!  _

Imoen suppressed a giggle as Kaelis continued. "According to Sir Ryan, Melanath was one of the Knights of the Order, years ago. One of your typical 'honor and glory' types." 

"Hmm…  Sound like anyone we know?" Imoen opened her eyes wide in a look of mock-innocence.

Kaelis shot Imoen an exasperated look over her shoulder and continued without a pause. 

"Or so it _appeared._"

Imoen could see where this was going.  "But… he wasn't really, was he?"

Kaelis shook her head.  "He seemed unusually interested in power. Truth be told, some of the others felt uncomfortable around Melanath. Said he had a darkness in his eyes that made them uneasy. But he did all the right things, knew all the right answers.  No one ever thought to question him." 

Kaelis ran the back of her hand over her forehead thoughtfully.  "Unfortunately, along with his apparent love of honor and glory, he seemed to have a certain… affection for his commander's wife, Ariana. He would write her letters, send her gifts. Very carefully, of course."

"Of course."

Kaelis let her hand drop, letting out a sigh.  "Much to his… frustration, he never received a response." 

"She loved her husband." Jaheira's voice was quiet, but held a definite edge.

Imoen was listening seriously now. 

Kaelis nodded. "She loved her husband. So she never replied to any of his letters, returned all of his gifts, hoping he would get bored and lose interest." 

Imoen shifted in her seat.  "And it didn't work." 

Kaelis shook her head grimly. "It didn't work. He became obsessed. Started writing more letters, standing in front of the commander's estate for hours and looking up at her window, waiting for her. For weeks. She got scared." 

"I would." 

Jaheira looked over at Imoen, annoyed at the constant interruptions, but said nothing, as Kaelis didn't seem to mind. 

Kaelis nodded again. "So would I. So she told her husband, who, understandably, was…" she chose her words carefully, "_upset_, and went to the headquarters to confront Melanath. Melanath knew of his intentions.  He watched him leave from the shadows, and…." 

Kaelis frowned abruptly, and her voice gained a hard edge that made Imoen feel suddenly uneasy. "He got into the house. Broke the front door down, apparently, and went into a rage, killing the servants, the bodyguards, everyone until he got upstairs." 

Imoen's voice was a whisper. "By the Gods, no…." 

"Gareth… the commander… came back from the headquarters, obviously not having found Melanath there. It probably only took him a moment to realize what had happened, and when he got upstairs…" Kaelis shook her head and shrugged.

Imoen felt as if she were going to be sick. 

"Sir Ryan had been at the headquarters when Gareth burst in looking for Melanath and heard the whole story, or what Gareth knew, anyway. When Gareth left the headquarters for his estate, Sir Ryan gathered several paladins and a few knights and they followed him as closely as they could. When they got there, the younger knights stayed downstairs to help the few servants and bodyguards that remained alive, and Sir Ryan and the other paladins rushed upstairs." 

"When they got to Ariana's bedroom…" Kaelis paused to take a deep breath. "Ariana was dead, found naked on the floor. There were bruises around her neck, she was covered with blood, and Sir Ryan said that she appeared to have been… that Melanath had…." Her voice trailed off, her face pale. 

Imoen was _definitely_ going to be sick. 

Kaelis finished quietly. "Gareth lay dead beside her, his sword in his hand. Melanath was gone." 

Imoen stared open-mouthed at Kaelis for a long moment, then put her head in her hands.

"No…  No, no, no…."

Jaheira's words were soft in Imoen's ear.  "Strength, child.  Have strength…." 

A note of apology had crept into Kaelis' voice.  "A few months later, a letter was brought into the Order Headquarters in Athkatla. Melanath admitted to killing both Ariana and Gareth. In fact, he seemed to be boasting about it. He described it all in nauseating detail." 

Imoen let out a little hiccupping noise and shuddered.  

Kaelis paused, then said softly, "I had Sir Ryan skip that part." 

A muffled "Thank you" came from behind Imoen's hands. 

"Melanath mocked the order, blamed them for the deaths. He said they couldn't protect her, couldn't save her. That they followed an outdated code of chivalry, held to ideals that no longer existed. Only power mattered, and he had found it. Had used them to find it."

Imoen raised her head.  "What did he mean?"

Kaelis sat down on Imoen's other side.  "Think about it.  The Order of the Radiant Heart is full of paladins… and clerics, and knights whose sole purpose in life is to stamp out evil wherever they find it.  You've seen the Order's library.  Hundreds and thousands of scrolls about hundreds and thousands of evils, and how to fight them.  And you've heard the stories.  There was a treasure trove of information there, and Melanath knew that.  What better way to protect yourself from your enemies than to find out how exactly they would go about destroying you?"

Imoen nodded and looked down at her hands.  "We've done that."

Kaelis nodded.  "And we're alive because of it."  She took at deep breath.  "Anyway, the letter….  Now that Melanath had no further use for the Order, he said, he would destroy them. Would wipe them utterly off the face of the earth, and everything that they stood for." She fell into silence. 

Jaheira spoke calmly, but her lips were tight. "And now he's in the Silver Mountains." 

Kaelis nodded. "Building an army, apparently. Initially, according to reports, he began by simply manipulating the creatures that he found in the mountains. Trolls, wolves, a few wyverns." 

"So how did the Order know where he was?" 

Kaelis smiled grimly. "It would appear that even the Order isn't above a little… _persuasion_ when information is needed. They… _convinced_ the messenger to tell them where he had traveled from."

Imoen grimaced.  "Yikes." 

Jaheira repeated, "The Silver Mountains." 

Kaelis nodded again. "So they sent a few scouts into the area.  There's a town…  Kanfael.  They snooped around a bit, asked a few questions."

"And found him." 

Kaelis nodded again.  "He hasn't made many friends among the villagers, I'm afraid.  The Order scouts found Melanath just north of Kanfael, in the southern part of the Mountains. There is a deserted fortress there." Kaelis raised an eyebrow. "A Radiant Heart fortress abandoned two hundred years ago." 

A smirk appeared on Jaheira's lips.  "How ironic." 

"Isn't it? Anyway, only a few members of the initial scouting party escaped. They made it back to Athkatla, barely alive and completely terrified. They spoke of hordes of Ice Trolls, large packs of wolves, you know. Big groups, little organization, for the most part. But there were a few creatures that worried them, huge things that looked like men, but were made of stone." 

Imoen ventured, "Golems…." 

Jaheira shook her head. "Surely golems are familiar enough to the Radiant Heart." 

Kaelis' eyes were troubled. "Yes, they are. But many of the golems that the survivors described were creatures that they had never seen nor heard of. They were smaller than the other golems, a shimmering blue, and not hurt by the Order's weapons." She looked at Jaheira meaningfully. "The Order uses _magical_ weapons." 

The druid frowned. "Magic golems. Like those we found in Watcher's Keep."

Imoen frowned at this latest revelation. "That's impossible. Clerics don't have the power to create _any_ type of golem, and certainly not _magic_ golems.  He must have…  gotten them from somewhere, or…."  Her eyes widened as she realized where the conversation was headed.

Kaelis shook her head, confirming Imoen's suspicions. "No, they don't. It would take a mage of tremendous power.  That's what makes the Order nervous.  As it is, only one man among them has ever even _seen_ a magic golem, much less seen one fall in battle. So they sent _him."_

Imoen frowned. "Anomen." 

Kaelis simply nodded. 

The loud rasp of metal against earth came from behind them. All three women turned, startled, having nearly forgotten that Minsc was there listening to the conversation.  He had said nothing, instead choosing to settle in the shadows and look after the armor and weapons. 

Now the look on the huge ranger's face left no doubt as to what he was feeling. He had thrust his giant two-handed sword a full foot into the earth, and his normally placid features were twisted with sheer rage, his eyes blazing with anger. It was frightening.  Imoen had never realized how truly enormous Minsc was.

Slowly and deliberately, Minsc stood to his full height, towering over the others as he began to speak, his voice low and hard, and unlike anything they had ever heard from their friend. Even little Boo, perched on his shoulder, could not dispel the strange and terrifying attitude. 

"Evil... will… meet… my… boot…." 

It was all he said. 

Not even Imoen laughed.


	6. Chapter V

**Disclaimer:**  I own nothing related to Bioware, Interplay, or the Baldur's Gate series other than copies of the games themselves and an overactive imagination.  Thank you.  :)

* * *

**Journey to the North  
Chapter V  
  
  
**

The tears streamed unheeded down Elsbeth's cheeks. Even if she had had the resolve to brush them away, her hands were fastened tightly to the stone table upon which she lay. She had long since stopped pulling against the icy steel, and now she lay with eyes closed, her cheek resting against the smooth, polished surface of the altar. 

Around her, she could hear the terrified sobs of the others. They echoed in the cavernous room, growing and multiplying until they surrounded her, pressed in on her, calling her heart to despair. She resisted as long as she could, but it was growing more difficult, and she was so tired…. 

She craned her neck until she could see the figures pulling futilely against their chains, could hear the cold clanking of steel adding to the symphony of their terror. 

Only Aaron was silent.  He stood watching as the tears carved burning trails down his tanned cheeks.  His broad shoulders sagged with exhaustion and helplessness.  His clothes hung from his body in filthy shreds.  He was beaten and bruised, barely conscious.  Her heart ached for him.  She could see in his eyes the pain, the fear.  Their eyes locked for a moment, and she saw a glimpse of his complete and utter anguish before he let his head fall, hiding his eyes from her gaze.  

She took a shuddering, painful breath, lay still on the altar, and waited. 

Elsbeth did not have long to wait. She heard footsteps in the corridor and tore her eyes away, turning her head toward the great doorway at one end of the room. It had no door, but was open to the corridor, and she could see in the shadows several cloaked figures approaching.  Their faces remained indistinct as they walked from the darkness of the hallway into the flickering light of the huge candles set at the four corners of the altar. 

Slowly, the frightened cries of the others faded into a horrified stillness, and the cloaked figures moved into the room with a quiet shuffle of robes, moving into a large circle around the table upon which she lay. 

There was silence for only a few minutes. Soon Elsbeth's ears detected another movement in the hallway, like the sound of soft boots on stone, but strange… unnatural. 

A step, then a shuffle. Another step, another shuffle. It grew louder in the heavy quiet, coming nearer. 

It was then that she saw him.

The figure was cloaked in much the same manner as the others, but there was a slight variation to his robes. They were the color of blood, and gold at the edges glittered in the light of the candles. On one side, the hem of the garment just touched the stone floor of the room, but on the other, it dragged over the surface with each shuffling step. She watched the figure as he moved into the dim light, unable to tear her eyes away. 

He moved through a large gap in the circle of cloaked figures and approached the altar. _Step, shuffle.  Step, shuffle.  Step…._

He came nearer until he stood directly over Elsbeth's helpless form.  Elsbeth could see for the first time the shapes of eyes in the shadows of his hood. They were cold, lifeless, and glittered with an cruel light that turned her blood to ice within her veins. 

She swallowed the scream that leapt to her throat and willed her hands to remain still.  It did little good.  The fingers clenched, let go, pulled against the restraints once more until Elsbeth's arms began to tremble in a mixture of exhaustion and terror.

She was going to die.

The eyes watched her for several moments in silence.  At last a voice came from within the darkness of the hood. It was barely above a whisper, but it echoed in the silence, and it seemed that even the hearts of those circled around the altar stilled a moment in a dreadful uneasiness. 

"The relic." 

One of the cloak figures moved forward slowly, drawing from within his robes a small crystal that glittered in the dusky light. He offered it to the red-cloaked figure with faintly trembling hands.

The hand that reached out to accept the offering was claw-like, and wrapped in strips of pale and moth-eaten cloth. The servant involuntarily shuddered at the brush of those withered fingers, but the master seemed not to notice and turned toward the altar with his prize, hungry anticipation in his dead gaze as he looked upon the slender figure before him. 

"Do not fear, child." 

The smile in the hoarse words chilled Elsbeth's heart even more, and she silently prayed for strength as she met his cold eyes. 

"With your sacrifice, you give birth to a glorious new creature. You will be called the Mother of Darkness, and all those who raise their voices to the shadow will praise your name. Rejoice in your good fortune, my dear, and prepare yourself for the sweet oblivion that awaits you." 

Elsbeth shuddered as another clawed hand emerged from the sanguine robes to touch her face, tracing the icy fingers over her skin. 

"Yes, child, your soul will be perfect." 

Elsbeth's skin crawled at the figure's touch and a spark of anger rose in her heart, momentarily conquering her fear. Her voice seemed unnaturally loud in the cavernous space, though it barely rose above a whisper. "May my soul poison you and carry you on vengeful wings into the depths of the Abyss."

With that, she spat at the shadow that was the creature's face, and he withdrew a step, the glittering eyes narrowing into terrifying slits. He paused for what seemed an eternity, then pulled the hood back from his face. Elsbeth's eyes widened, but no scream came to her throat, for her terror silenced her. 

Melanath's face was barely recognizable as having ever been human.  The skin was the color of parchment.  Dry, withered, and stretched across the bones of the skull like a drum, widening the features into a grim mockery of humanity. The lips were bloodless and cruel, and thin clumps of colorless hair hung limply around his shoulders. His body moved reluctantly in a cruel parody of life, a walking corpse with eyes of darkness. 

He moved a bandaged hand to wipe the moisture from a shriveled cheek, his mouth curved in a malicious snarl.

"Ariana once acted as you do, foolish child. She had tried so long to keep me away.  She should have known it was impossible.  I will not be denied.

"When at last I came to her, she cried to the gods to protect her, called to her husband, to the asinine idiot who had left her alone to search for me in a jealous rage.  Fool." He drew his face close to hers, and she could smell for the first time the odor of decay on the breath that passed over her cheeks. 

"I took her, child. On her own bed. I took her body, and I took her soul. Then I took her body again, even as she prayed to her worthless gods for protection." His laughter was a dry rustle in the darkness. "She did not realize that a god already held her in his arms."

He bent closer.  "Do you know what a lich is, child?  Power.  Immortality.  I would have it all.  I would be a god among men, and still she refused me.  Still she called her husband's name.  It was on her lips as I finally allowed her to die."

He voice was filled with mockery.  "Protection. The prayers died on her lips with Gareth's name. I kissed her then, child, and she had never tasted sweeter as I quite literally held her soul in my hand." His hand tightened around the crystal, and he straightened as well as he could. "And now you will join her."

Elsbeth closed her eyes and wept.  She heard the shouting behind her, could hear Aaron's voice rising above the others, though she could not make out the words.  His voice was frantic, pleading….  She let out a strangled sob, curling her hands into fists until she could feel the sharp bite of the fingernails on her palm.

Melanath glanced over his shoulder at the noise, then looked down at Elsbeth with a cruel smile.  "Is it his name you will call as you die?  We shall see…."

Melanath barked a command in an unfamiliar tongue, and the candle's flames leapt into the air, illuminating the room as he reached into his cloak, pulling an ornate dagger from within. It glittered wickedly, but less so than Melanath's lifeless eyes. 

"Do not weep, child.  He will join you soon enough."

Melanath laughed harshly, then raised his hands to the darkness.

"Let the ritual begin." 


	7. Chapter VI

**Author's Note:**  Thanks so much for all of your reviews!  They really keep me going!  :)

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** Disclaimer:**  I own nothing related to Bioware, Interplay, or the Baldur's Gate series other than copies of the games themselves and an overactive imagination.  Thank you.  :)

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**Journey to the North  
Chapter VII  
  
  
  
**Janus opened his eyes. His sleep had been dreamless, and he thanked Helm for that. Twice.

Tentatively, he moved one arm, then the other, nodding in satisfaction as he felt them respond easily to his commands. He lay back on his pillow and looked around the tent. The sunlight could be seen on the other side of the thick canvas walls, and somewhere near, he could hear the song of a dove. It seemed strangely out of place in this Helm-forsaken place, but it gladdened his heart to hear it.  He managed a faint smile as his eyes fell upon Anomen Delryn, who was seated beside the bed. 

Anomen returned the smile and said in a gentle voice, "It is good to see you awake, Janus. You've been sleeping for two days and a morning. I thought perhaps that you had decided to return to Helm, after all." 

Janus sat up in his bed and laughed softly. "With all respect and honor to the Watcher, my Lord, I have no desire to return to his presence just yet.'  He nodded tiredly toward the tent flap, indicating the quiet hum of voices on the other side.  "I would thank the healer that tended my wounds and spoke his spells over me, Sir, if you would give me his name." 

Anomen bowed slightly in his seat, touching a hand lightly to the newly cleaned armor over his heart. "You are most welcome for my assistance, Janus, and I thank you." 

So the young commander had healed him himself.  Janus made a slight movement like a bow from his bed.  Anomen nodded in acknowledgement, but said nothing, and Janus could see in his eyes that there was more he wished to say. 

Janus knew instinctively the line of questioning that would follow, and took a deep breath, steeling himself against the dark images that quickly invaded his thoughts. Janus shuddered slightly and said, "No doubt you have heard my report already.  But there is more that you wish to know about what I saw in Duruth'Usk." 

Anomen hesitated, and then nodded. "I wish that I could leave you in peace, Janus, but there are things in your account which trouble me, and I feel that I must ask you a few more questions." 

Janus frowned. Surely young Delryn didn't mean….

"My Lord, if there was anything I said that cast doubt on my loyalty to the Order and to you…." 

Anomen smiled and spoke quickly, interrupting the man's thoughts. "No, no! It is nothing like that, Janus. I know your heart to be strong, and your loyalty stronger. There is no doubt in my mind that you spoke the truth." He sighed quietly and lowered his voice. "_That_ is what troubles me." 

Janus shook his head.  He did not understand.

Anomen went on. "You believe… nay, you are _certain_ that the man that you saw in the courtyard was none other than Melanath himself." 

"Yes, Sir." 

Anomen furrowed his brow thoughtfully, then leaned over and rested his elbows on his knees, steepling his fingers. "He was cloaked in a mage's robe?" 

"Yes, Sir." 

"And you are certain that he was hooded? That his face could not be seen?" 

"Yes, Sir.  I swear it." 

Anomen paused again, seemingly losing himself in memory.  His sapphire eyes gained an intensity that made Janus suddenly uneasy. 

"You said that his voice sounded unnatural. Flat. His movements… Were they also… _unnatural_?" 

Janus shuddered slightly and nodded. "They were, my Lord. Almost as though…." He paused and frowned.  How could he explain what he had seen?  The shuffling gait, the jerky movements, the voice…. 

Anomen's gaze was still far away, but he spoke, his tone grave and filled with remembrance, "Almost as though it were a corpse…. A lifeless body moving on a puppet master's strings." 

Janus looked at Anomen strangely for a long moment.  The description was perfect. Too perfect.  He nodded. "Exactly that, my Lord. You have seen this before." 

Anomen nodded darkly and sat back in his seat. "I have." 

He sat motionless for several moments, his eyes moving slightly as he turned a thousand thoughts over in his head. At last he focused his gaze again, and looked at Janus, managing a forced smile as he asked. "How do you feel?" 

"Well enough, Sir. Helm works through you in great power for one so young."

Anomen laughed, shaking his head.  Janus thought he could see a bit of a flush under the well-trimmed beard, but he said nothing of it.  Instead he smiled and said, "My body is strong and ready." 

The smile remained on Anomen's face, though his gaze was serious. "And your mind?" 

Janus looked down at his hands. "It will heal in time, my Lord." He looked up again. "It is not often that one sees evil itself walking the earth, Sir, however it may be accomplished." 

Anomen lowered his voice even further. "Magic, Janus. The most evil and dark of magics." His voice was quiet, but his eyes were blazing. "A blasphemy that I cannot, nay _will_ not tolerate." 

Janus watched Anomen for several moments before slowly moving back the blanket and rising from his bed. He stood tall, though several inches shorter than Lord Delryn, and he looked at him with a determined gaze. "What, my Lord, would you have me do?" 

Anomen stood, as well, and said in a low voice, "I need you to make a journey." 

*** 

The food and wine remained untouched on the rough surface of the table in Anomen's hut.  Duncan sat frowning as the young commander paced the floor, his massive arms folded over his chest.  His mind was reeling from the revelations of the past few minutes.

"Surely, Anomen, Janus must be mistaken." 

Anomen shook his head gravely, continuing in his rhythmic movements. "Janus saw a lich, Duncan. What he described to me can be nothing else." 

Duncan sat in a stunned silence for several minutes.  Then he shook his head and said, "How is that possible? Melanath was a warrior for Helm, a knight of the Most Noble Order. And now a lich? Not only would he have had to be blasphemously false in every tenant of the codes of the Order, but…." 

Anomen finished his thought. "He would have to have been a mage." He slowed in his steps and turned to face Duncan, but his arms remained folded over his chest, and his handsome features were dark with anger. "Something the Order neglected to mention when they sent me to this Helm-forsaken place." 

Duncan shook his head. "Perhaps they did not know, Anomen. I've heard nothing of such an idea, and…." 

"Or perhaps they _did_, Duncan, but decided that the appearance of righteousness, of… _control_ must be upheld at all costs. It would not be the first time…." 

Duncan sighed and shook his head. He knew instinctively what thoughts were running through his friend's mind at this moment.  The Order had not been happy with Anomen's declaration of his love for the Bhaalspawn Kaelis, and had suggested to young Anomen that it was in everyone's best interest to leave the woman to herself, and concentrate more fully on his vows to the Radiant Heart. She was a child of evil, they had said, and no good can come of evil.

The thought even angered Duncan. After all that she had done for the Order, for the Temple of Helm, for the Elves of Suldanesselar and countless others all along the Sword Coast….  After all of that, that they would still consider her a child of the darkness pricked at his heart and gnawed at his conscience. 

He had seen Kaelis on only a few occasions. He had been impressed with her grace, her beauty, her sharp wit and graceful power. Anomen had done well.  But Duncan _did_ have to admit that there _was_ mystery in her eyes, a shadow hidden behind the light and the laughter. He supposed that perhaps that was a part of the attraction.  The danger of it all.  Anomen was nothing if not impulsive and passionate, and Duncan could certainly lay no blame on the young cleric for having fallen under her spell.

Anomen's fist crashed down on the rough wooden table, tearing Duncan from his thoughts and leaving a dent in the rough surface. 

"Appearances be damned, Duncan!"  His voice was tight with fury.  "We needed to know! There are men who are risking their lives in this place against an enemy that they have never seen!"

Anomen straightened, running a hand through his hair before letting in rest tiredly over his eyes.  "I have stood in battle against a lich.  I know in my heart that half of those who see his face will probably never live to see another. I have lost too many men already…." 

Duncan stood and laid a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder.  "We are not defeated yet, Anomen.  With Helm's aid and yours, we may yet triumph."

Anomen dropped his head and fell silent.

Duncan watched him for a moment, then sighed and let his hand fall, resting it casually on the hilt of his sword. 

Anomen said nothing, his eyes hidden. After what seemed an eternity, he raised his head, and Duncan saw with some surprise the tears in the young lord's eyes. "You know that it is more than the truth about Melanath that troubles me, Duncan." 

Duncan nodded imperceptibly, but said nothing. 

"If they would have allowed me to tell her…."  He laughed grimly.  "She has battled worse than _this_ in her travels. If they would have swallowed their damned pride and asked for her help…." 

Duncan smiled inwardly at that.  His thoughts drifted of their own accord to a certain young, insufferably arrogant squire that he had once known. 

Anomen stood and sighed.  It was a sigh of utter exhaustion.  Duncan frowned, but Anomen spoke before he had a chance.

"I have no gift for this, Duncan. I lead the best I can, and ask for Helm's aid, but…." He shook his head. "Kaelis led when last I faced a creature as foul as this. I can only guess what she would have done, and pray that I know her as well as I hope I do." He then fell again into a thoughtful silence. 

Duncan was still amazed by the changes that had come over Anomen Delryn in his travels with Kaelis. If for no other reason, the Order should certainly be grateful to her for _that_.

Duncan grinned and slapped his friend on the back as hard as he could, laughing heartily as Anomen stumbled forward, then glared at him with sapphire eyes. 

"Quit your girlish whining, boy, or I shall have to put you over my knee." 

Anomen blinked in his surprise, then turned and stood at his full height. He was a few inches taller than Duncan, and his shoulders were certainly broader. He was an imposing figure, and if Duncan had not seen the reluctant smile that had crept into Anomen's eyes, he may have been a little uncomfortable. 

As it was, Anomen just raised an eyebrow and said in his smooth voice, "You tried that once." 

Duncan nodded, arching a thick eyebrow and trying to adopt a more serious demeanor.  He had a feeling that he was failing miserably. 

"Aye, I did. As I recall, you ran away crying like a little girl, and couldn't sit for a week." 

"That's not how I remember it." 

The two men stared at each other in silence for several minutes, taunting each other without a word. 

Anomen's face softened suddently, and he laughed, running both hands through his hair. 

Duncan joined him, but after a moment, a hint of seriousness returned to his eyes. "Anomen, I follow you without question, and I know that the men do as well. You doubt yourself, but we do not." He placed his fist over his heart and bowed formally. "We are at your command, my Lord." 

Anomen paused, then bowed in return.  He seemed grateful, if a little uncomfortable for his friend's display. As Duncan straightened, Anomen spoke quietly.

 "I have sent Janus with two others to the Friendly Arm Inn, two days' ride to the southwest. I have urged him to make the journey as quickly as he can, and he seems to think that he can make the ride back in one day and a half, if he gets a new horse at the Friendly Arm." 

Duncan nodded, and waited for Anomen to go on. "We need supplies, potions and scrolls, and the like. It will be impossible to get anywhere near Melanath if we have not prepared ourselves thoroughly. Janus should return no later than five days from this morning, Helm willing, which will give us plenty of time to plan for an assault." 

Anomen frowned. "Now that we know what we are up against, it will be easier to know how best to rid Faerun and the Order of this menace. What I would not give for one hundred more men…." 

"The men will fight, each one with the strength of two at your command, my Lord." Duncan's voice was sure, his eyes shining with pride. 

Anomen nodded. "I know they will, Duncan, and I hesitate to say that there may come a time where I must ask that of them. I pray that the time does not come. For now, we must concentrate on finding a more subtle way into the fortress." 

"Yes, Sir." 

"Gather the men, Duncan." Anomen rested his hand on the handle of the Flail of Ages that hung at his side. "I will not have them go into battle in ignorance. They will be told the truth, appearances be damned." 

Duncan bowed, a smile on his lips. "Yes, Sir." 

Without another word, he followed Anomen out of the hut and into the brightest sunshine that he had felt in weeks. 


	8. Chapter VII

**Disclaimer:**  I own nothing related to Bioware, Interplay, or the Baldur's Gate series other than copies of the games themselves and an overactive imagination.  Thank you.  :)

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**Journey to the North  
Chapter V  
  
  
**

Sir Anomen Delryn was uneasy, to say the least. The flickering candle did little to illuminate the darkness in the rough hut that served as headquarters and home for the commander of the quickly dwindling forces of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart. 

It did even less to raise Anomen's spirits. He sat bent over a rugged wooden table that could scarcely be seen under the constantly growing multitude of maps, charts, and letters. His forehead rested on his hands, light brown hair falling untidily over his fingers and into his eyes, which were closed and motionless. 

Duncan held the snow-bleached skin that covered the door. His tired gray eyes were focused on the unmoving figure of Sir Anomen.  He thought perhaps that Anomen had fallen asleep, and he stood on the threshold for several minutes, watching the young knight with indecision. Duncan would sooner face the winter wolves howling in the distance without his sword than wake his friend after a day like this. 

The battle had been long, and many of the combatants on both sides had succumbed to serious injury and even death. The clerics of the Order had spent several long and weary hours administering the last of the potions and scrolls that they had managed to save, and the intonation of voices reciting various healing spells became an all too familiar drone. 

Anomen had wandered through the ranks with the others for hours after the conflict, exhausting every spell that he had at his disposal, healing and even resurrecting those who had fallen until he could move no more with fatigue and reluctantly retreated to his hut. His well-worn priest scroll had been laid on the table in front of him for memorization, the chosen spells written in a strong, steady hand, but now the quill lay beside the parchment, motionless, and the young cleric's eyes read nothing. 

Duncan was about to turn and disappear back into the night when a painfully weary voice called to him, "Stay, Duncan, but close the door. Please." Anomen lifted his head slightly and opened his eyes, turning them to look at the newcomer with an exhausted smile. 

The older man took a few steps into the darkened room, dropping the skin behind him with a muffled _thud_. 

"I thought you might be sleeping, Anomen. I didn't want to wake you, but…." 

Anomen sat up and rubbed his hands over his face tiredly. "I wish you had, Duncan, for that would mean that I had slept." 

Duncan frowned slightly as Anomen managed another weary smile and ran his hands through his hair, which fell around his shoulders in sweat-stiffened curls. It seemed fit all too well with the dented and blood-smeared plate armor that he still wore, apparently too spent and uneasy to remove it, even for some much-needed rest.

"You need rest, Anomen." 

Anomen stifled a yawn as he spoke. "I think we could all use a night's rest, but such things seem to have become memories only. Memories… or wishes, perhaps." Anomen's deep blue eyes drifted into a faraway look, and for a moment, he was seeing past the cold and desolate mountains of the north, gazing upon a brighter sun. 

***

He heard her laughter dancing on the wind, felt her kiss in the warmth of the candle. For a moment she was with him, and he was happy. But all too soon the cold of the north once again crept into his heart, and he was alone. 

Duncan did not interrupt, waiting until Anomen's eyes had cleared before speaking. Then he coughed quietly and took another step into the room, his hand distractedly resting on the large sword at his side. "My friend, if you are not well…." 

Anomen waved off Duncan's concern with a quick movement of his hand. "It is nothing that a few hours of sleep will not heal." He rose from the table with a quiet ring of metal, and met Duncan's gaze with strong blue eyes that stood out in sharp contrast to the dark circles that surrounded them. 

"Now, what news? And pray do not tell me that the enemy lurks on the horizon." He smiled wryly. "I have had quite enough lurking for one day, and am eager for what few dreams of…  _home_ that I can muster." 

Duncan paused for a long moment before he spoke. " Anomen, the latest scouting party has returned." 

As Duncan spoke the words, the smile faded from Anomen's face. Duncan's tone was weary, his eyes troubled.  Anomen paused for an equally eternal moment, and then said simply, "How many returned?" 

Duncan's gaze faltered, but he managed to bring his eyes back to his commander's face before saying in a low voice, "Three rode into camp." He paused, the look in his eyes all too clear. "One now lives, Sir." 

"One only? Of the five?" Anomen frowned. 

Duncan nodded hesitantly. "Yes, Sir. Aron and Renfel fell shortly after riding into the camp. Each of the three had been severely wounded" He paused, sensing Anomen's thoughts. "Lord Anomen, there were none that could help. Every spell of healing and raising had been spoken, every scroll and potion gone." He lowered his voice. "We could do nothing." 

Anomen sighed quietly, feeling suddenly wearier than he could ever remember. "Helm take and keep the others in His glory." 

Duncan lowered his head reverently. "In His glory." 

There was a heavy silence. At last Anomen said softly, "Who lives?" 

"Janus, Sir." 

"Where is he?" 

"He waits in the healing tent. He has been urged to sleep, but he refuses to take any nourishment or rest a single moment until he has spoken with you." 

"He has been… checked?" Anomen turned back to the table, picked up an ornate, five-headed flail and slid it easily into a loop in his belt. Its subtle glow of magic reflected faintly in his armor and cast an eerie glow over the area surrounding the two men. He retrieved a well-used sling from its resting place beside the candle and slipped it into a pouch on his belt, then a few of the glowing stones that had lain beside it. 

Duncan nodded. "One of the battle mages had managed to save one of their spells of True Sight, and cast it as soon as the survivor was brought into the tent. He swears an oath that it is Janus, as surely as I stand before you now." 

Anomen looked satisfied, and quickly finished gathering his hair into a low ponytail. He then tucked his unread Priest Scroll into another pouch at his belt and turned to face his companion. "I will not keep him waiting, then." He motioned for Duncan to go before him and forced a faint smile to his face. "Perhaps one man in this camp may sleep tonight, after all." 

He followed Duncan out of the small hut and into the night. 

*** 

Anomen ducked into the healing tent alone, standing in the doorway for a moment while his eyes adjusted to the darkness. All of the cots were full, but he smiled as he realized that most of them were holding sleeping clerics. Only a few held soldiers that had been unlucky enough to be found after the battery of potions and spells had been cast, and even they slept peacefully, their wounds carefully dressed and waiting patiently for the healing that would soon come. 

His eyes searched the faces until he found one that was not quiet in sleep. Janus lay in the darkness, his eyes wide and staring at the ceiling. Beside him, a young healer held a half-eaten bowl of food in his hands, a look of concern on his smooth features. He watched Janus intently, turning only as he heard the sound of soft footsteps crossing the length of the tent. He looked up, and then stood as he saw Anomen standing over him, looking silently down at the wounded man. The healer rose steadily if not quickly, and Anomen's eyes looked to his in silent inquiry.

The healer spoke in low tones. "I did manage to convince him to take a little food. And he looks all the better for it. But he yet refuses to sleep. He asks only to speak with you, and you alone." 

Anomen nodded without a word, and the healer bowed slightly and withdrew, looking over his shoulder only once before disappearing out the door. Anomen pulled the healer's stool closer to the wounded man's cot, his gaze intent on the figure before him. He sat on the stool with a slight noise, and the eyes of the man in the cot jerked toward him in terror.   

"Hello, Janus." Anomen smiled slightly and lay a reassuring hand on the young man's shoulder, feeling him relax slightly under the touch.  Anomen nodded toward his bandages, arching a dark eyebrow. "You rather look as though you've tried to save Faerun on your own. Rather selfish of you to take all of the glory before the rest of us have a chance, isn't it?" 

Janus coughed slightly in what could almost be a laugh, but his face remained pale and he looked up at Anomen with frightened eyes. Anomen's smile faded quickly.  He knew Janus, and though young, the man was not frightened easily.  Anomen looked around him in the darkness. There was nothing but sleeping men and the wind outside, but he was uneasy.  

He looked back at the wounded man with a grave expression, lowering his voice. "What did you find, Janus? Did you make it into the compound?" 

Janus nodded as well as he could, but he did not answer Anomen's question right away. Instead, he opened cracked lips and said, "The others?" 

Anomen's gaze dropped, and there was a moment of silence before he said, "Forgive me, Janus. They… have returned to their Lord.  I'm sorry."

Janus closed his eyes and fell silent for several minutes. Anomen watched him closely, and had just begun to fear that this man, too, had been lost, but after a moment Janus opened his eyes and whispered, "Helm watch them in their rest."  Then he turned his eyes to Anomen, who thought he could see the faint glimmer of tears in the dim candlelight.

"I report then, Sir…."

Anomen shook his head in the darkness, a note of relief creeping into his low voice. "Formality be hanged, Janus. You need sleep, and they tell me that you refuse to rest or eat before you give me your news." 

He smiled slightly, sitting back on the small stool. "Now tell me what it is that you have to say, so that we might both get some rest." 

Janus frowned and shook his head miserably. "I seek no rest, my Lord. I see in my mind images that I beg to forget, faces that should never be seen." 

He paused for a moment, then looked back at Anomen, his voice low, but clear. "My Lord, we did enter the fallen one's fortress. By your instruction, we each had several potions of invisibility in hand, and were unseen as we approached the south gate." 

Anomen nodded. "Duruth'Usk." 

Janus went on. "Yes, my Lord. We waited in the shadows for our opportunity, and did not need to wait long, as a patrol of Ice Trolls approached the gates." The soldier's eyes darkened, and his voice gained a hard edge despite its weakness. "It appeared that they carried with them several prisoners. Humans from one of the villages to the west, I am certain." 

Anomen shook his head, wanting not to believe, but uncomfortably sure of the man's truth. "You are certain? It is unlike Trolls to carry away prisoners…." 

Janus interrupted quietly. "Their cries echoed on the wind and in my heart, my Lord. They were human cries, and alive." 

Anomen nodded gravely and waited for him to go on. 

"The gates were opened as the patrol grew nearer, and we drew close, seeing our opportunity at last. We slipped inside before the trolls and quickly found shadowy corners where we could hide as they passed into the southern courtyard. We remained unseen, and for that we were grateful." 

Janus coughed harshly, and Anomen rose quickly and dipped a cup of water from the gratefully unfrozen barrel, then sat again and offered it to Janus, who accepted it thankfully and sat up to take a long drink. He returned the cup, and Anomen did not move to return it, only held it in his hands as he waited for Janus to speak again. 

It took him several minutes to do so. When he finally did, he raised his eyes again to Anomen's, and the cleric could see the terror in Janus' gaze return. 

"Sir, they stood in the courtyard, waiting. We could not know for what, but soon there was no need to guess. A man walked into the courtyard. He was strangely dressed, in a long robe, much like a mage would wear, but heavier, and it dragged upon the floor. Or perhaps it was his footsteps that dragged. It was difficult to tell. It had… a hood on it, that covered his head so that we could not see his face. As he approached, all that were in the courtyard, trolls and men both, bowed to him and dared not raise their eyes." 

Anomen's frown deepened. Trolls did not bow. Ever. 

Janus went on, "I could only guess that it was Melanath, and it seems that I was right, for one of the trolls approached him and bowed deeply, saying, 'My Lord, we have brought the sacrifice. May it please you and give you that which you desire.'" 

"You are sure of the words?" 

"Yes, my Lord, I remembered each one, for I had never thought that a troll could speak thus. Or at all. But it did, and in a voice that chilled me, Sir, for it had the hiss of water on fire." 

Anomen sat back on his stool. "Hissing?" 

Janus nodded slightly more easily now that he was sitting, and he replied, "Yes, Sir." 

The cold seemed to settle suddenly in Anomen's chest, but he only nodded and said, "Go on." 

"Melanath walked toward the prisoners, seeming to look over each one as you would look on a cow, or a horse. He circled them twice, perhaps three times, and then nodded slowly, but said nothing. The troll motioned to the others that held the prisoners and said to take them…" 

Janus frowned, remembering the words. "Take them to the chamber and prepare them for the ritual." 

Anomen paled slightly in the darkness. He dared not voice his thoughts, but knew he must ask.

"Did Melanath say anything? Anything at all...?" 

Janus paused, looking at the wall. "Yes, my Lord. Though his voice seemed strange. Flat, and… unnatural. He said only one thing, and I pray that Helm take his voice and his words from me, that I may not remember." 

"Janus, tell me." 

Janus looked at Anomen. "He said, 'You have done well. You may return to the village and do what you like with the others. Torture them, devour them, whatever it is that your kind does.'"

Anomen closed his eyes against the wave of nausea that rose within him.  He lowered his face and rubbed his forehead with his fingertips, unable to speak.

"Then…'" Janus went on, shuddering at the memory. "That was all that he said, Sir. He turned toward the shadows where we had hidden ourselves, and looked at us. I swear that he laughed, Sir, and though the others looked in our direction without seeing anything, he knew that we were there." 

Anomen nodded, lifting his head slightly. "There are spells, Janus.  I've no doubt that he was aware of your presence…."

Janus nodded faintly and looked at his hands.  "Forgive me, Sir, my Lord, if we have failed you…."

Anomen looked up quickly.  "No, Janus."  He smiled slightly and reached forward, laying his hand once more on the man's shoulder.  "Forgive me.  You have served well, and I am more indebted to you than you know.  It is my carelessness that put you in danger.  I should have known that he would have access to such magic…."

He did not add, _Though I was never told…._

Janus swallowed hard, still looking at his hands.  "We lit out of there like arrows, Sir. To our blessing, they had only begun to close the gates, and we managed to make it through and out of the fortress when he heard the madman's voice calling strange words. Each of us then saw the others, and we knew that we were lost. He had taken our invisibility from us as easily as one takes a blanket from a child." His voice faltered and fell silent, and Anomen could guess without words the rest of the story. 

Anomen gave Janus' shoulder a reassuring squeeze and smiled, praying silently that it did not look as forced as it felt. 

"You have done well, my friend. Rest now, and I will come to heal you myself in the morning. There is more to say, and if you feel that you are able, I yet have work for you to do." 

Janus nodded without a word and lay back on his pillow, closing his eyes with an exhausted sigh. Anomen watched him for a few minutes until the wounded man fell into a much-needed slumber, then rose and silently walked from the tent. 

Duncan stood outside, fingering the hilt of his sword distractedly.  When he saw Anomen emerge from the doorway, he straightened, looking quickly toward the door of the tent.

"The boy lives?" 

Anomen nodded, barely hearing the question.  He stood lost in thought for several moments, then looked at Duncan with a serious expression. 

"Double the watch. Those who have slept, watch, those who need sleep, sleep. True Sight will be maintained at all times. Is that understood?" 

Duncan nodded immediately. "Understood, Sir." 

He paused for a long moment, and then said more quietly. "Anomen, I beg you to take some rest now. You are as much a man as any under your command, and cannot expect more of yourself than you do of them." 

Duncan laid a hand on Anomen's shoulder. "Know that I will tell you of anything that needs your direct attention, but for now, my friend…." 

Anomen nodded and passed a weary hand over his face. "I know, Duncan. I know. I will try, though I can make no promises." 

Duncan nodded, satisfied, and moved away, barking orders to any men who stood standing to ready their weapons and take watch. Anomen turned and walked slowly back to his hut, the conversation with Janus still fresh in his mind. There were many things that troubled him, but perhaps none so much as the soldier's description of the cloaked Melanath. He shook his head in a desperate attempt to clear his thoughts and entered his hut. 

The candle had completely burned down, and the room was filled with shadow. He paused only a moment until everything became a little clearer, then walked to the rugged cot in the corner and threw himself upon it, armor and all. Within seconds, a deep exhaustion came over with him and he fell into a thankfully dreamless sleep. 


	9. Chapter VIII

**Disclaimer:**  I own nothing related to Bioware, Interplay, or the Baldur's Gate series other than copies of the games themselves and an overactive imagination.  Thank you.  :)

* * *

**Journey to the North  
Chapter VIII  
  
  
**

The soft hiss of stone on steel echoed on the evening breeze, and Imoen followed the sound easily, gracefully sidestepping a group of knights on their way to take the first watch of the night. One stopped briefly to smile and bow to her, and she slowed only to return his greeting with an impish grin.  She noted with some amusement that his eyes lingered on hers for a moment longer than was necessary before he turned away to follow his companions to the edge of the camp. 

She took a few backward steps as she watched his figure retreat, tilting her head thoughtfully. He was of average height, but taller than she was, and his shoulders were broad under the shining armor of the Order. A deep golden ponytail hung down between his shoulders, and she found herself wondering idly what it looked like loose around his shoulders. _Maybe after a bath…._ She giggled softly, feeling a faint blush creeping up her ears. Brandt, she thought his name was, and she made a mental note to find out for sure later that evening. 

He turned over his shoulder and looked back, smiling broadly as he met her eyes again, and this time Imoen felt the blush creeping fully over her face. She was grateful for the darkness and returned what she desperately hoped was not _too_ silly of a grin, then turned quickly and very nearly ran to the small tent that she shared with Kaelis and Jaheira. Jaheira was gone, but Kaelis sat in front of the tent opening on a small stool before the fire. 

She held a shining longsword over her knees with one slender hand, and ran a small stone along the edge with the other. She watched the movements of the stone constantly, only stopping every few minutes to lift the sword to the light of fire, examining the edge carefully. This time she nodded imperceptibly to herself and bent to lay the stone on the ground, taking instead an oiled cloth that lay on a piece of leather beside her seat. She folded it over the edge of the sword and began to clean the blade, glancing up as Imoen approached. She said nothing, though she smiled and nodded to a stool not too far from her own. 

Imoen threw herself onto the stool with a melodramatic flourish, and Kaelis glanced at her sister again out of the corner of her eye, laughing softly. She said nothing, however, and went back to cleaning her sword.  Imoen watched her for a long moment, then moved her stool slightly closer to Kaelis' and leaned over conspiratorially. Kaelis raised her eyebrows in an attitude of listening, but her eyes were still intent on her task, and at last Imoen let out an exasperated groan. Kaelis' hand slowed in its purpose, and she looked back at Imoen, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. 

Imoen sighed theatrically, a grin breaking out on her own puckish features.  "Kaelis, I'm in love." 

Kaelis laughed and shook her head, turning her eyes back to her sword. 

"I am!"

Kaelis gave a small nod and cleared her throat, avoiding Imoen's exaggeratedly hurt gaze.  She asked simply, "Who is it this time?" 

Imoen tilted her head, considering. "I think his name is Brandt. He's on First Watch tonight. Shares a tent with… Hey, wait a minute!" She reached over and pushed Kaelis' arm, nearly knocking her off of her stool. "What do you mean, '_this time_'?" 

Kaelis swallowed her laughter, inspecting the edge of her sword carefully. "You've told me that same thing probably a dozen times since we left Athkatla.  This morning it was Connor. And yesterday you swore that Darin was the only man that you would ever love. And before that you couldn't live without Paol. And the day before that it was…." 

Imoen rolled her eyes and groaned. "Okay, okay." She tried, rather unsuccessfully, to look injured, but at last she giggled and shrugged her shoulders delicately. "I guess I just have a lot of love to give." Kaelis just grinned and shook her head again, saying nothing. She picked up a scabbard from the ground and slid the sword into it with a soft _snick_. 

Imoen watched her sister quietly, the giddy smile fading more into one of concern. She watched as Kaelis sat still for several minutes, staring beyond the sword in her hands. Her thoughts were far away, and Imoen knew where they were. She moved her stool closer still to Kaelis', and she tilted her head until she could see Kaelis' eyes. "How are you doing?" 

Kaelis met her eyes, apparently a little surprised at the question, then shifted uncomfortably and looked back at the sword.  She lay it slowly on the ground beside the stool. "I'm fine. I'm… just a little tired, that's all. It was a long ride…." 

Imoen laughed softly and leaned back. "Save it, Kae. Don't you think I know you better than that."  Kaelis was silent, and Imoen paused a moment before she spoke again, more quietly. "Kaelis, I know you're tired. You haven't slept in two days. And you've hardly eaten at all." Imoen smiled vaguely. "Jaheira's worried." 

Kaelis laughed softly, not raising her eyes. She picked up another scabbard from the ground, similar to the first, but with strange markings along the length of the hard leather. She examined them intently for a moment, probably a little more intently than was necessary. "Jaheira's worried…?" She waited for a moment, then moved her eyes up to Imoen, smiling faintly. 

Imoen shrugged, looking away and toward the stars. "Yeah, well… You know how she is." 

Kaelis nodded. "Mm-hmm…." 

Imoen looked up at the trees, the sky, anywhere to avoid Kaelis' piercing gaze. "It must be a druid thing…." 

"Worried." 

"Yup." 

"A druid thing." 

"Yup."

"Jaheira."

"Mm-hmm." 

Kaelis nodded, a smile tugging at her lips as she pulled a second sword out of the ornately carved scabbard.

Imoen tried to hide her own smile, looked at Kaelis again, then sighed and drooped her shoulders slightly. "Okay, okay, so maybe I'm a little bit… _concerned_." Kaelis had picked up the stone again as Imoen was speaking and was running it over the edge of the sword, her smile faded into thoughtfulness.  Imoen continued quickly, "But she _did_ say that you need some rest and food or you'll be… well, to put it some way that it might make sense to _normal_ people, you'll be no use to anyone at all." 

Kaelis laughed, shaking her head. "That's not what she said, is it?" 

Imoen giggled. "No, not exactly. It was more along the lines of you'll be as useless as fur on a fish, or something like that. Something very… _natural_." 

Kaelis smiled, her eyes on the sword and the stone that ran along the blade's edge, singing softly in the darkness. She said nothing, and Imoen watched her for a time in silence. Finally she leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees, her eyes drifting toward the weapon in Kaelis' hand.  Anomen had given the sword to Kaelis, she knew, but she could not read the markings on the scabbard and had never asked what they meant.

 There was a long silence, heavy, but not unwelcome, and Imoen was a little startled when it was broken by the sound of her sister's voice. 

"We should reach the Friendly Arm by this time tomorrow." Kaelis let the sword and stone fall gently into her lap. "After that, we start for the northeast and Kanfael. Into the mountains." 

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then looked over at Imoen. "This is your last chance to change your mind, little sister. If you want to go home…." 

Imoen pretended to consider for a moment, then wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "I can't do that. You'd never survive without me, and then Jaheira would get after me, and you know how she gets…." Imoen giggled, then shook her head as her tone grew more serious. "You know I won't leave, Kae. Not now, not like this." 

Kaelis smiled faintly. "I know." Her smile widened, and Imoen could see the unspoken gratitude shining in her eyes before they turned once more to the weapon in her hand.  Kaelis turned it one way, then the other, then gave a little nod, apparently satisfied.  As she set down the stone and reached for the cleaning cloth, Imoen reached out and grabbed her forearm.

"Just promise me something, Kae." 

Kaelis nodded, but said nothing.

"Kaelis." 

Kaelis sighed softly and sat back up.  "What is it?" 

"Just least try to get some sleep. Please." 

Kaelis groaned and closed her eyes, letting her head drop. "Imoen…." 

"You can't help Anomen like this, Kaelis, and if he were here, he would be giving you a harder time than I am. You know that." 

Kaelis flinched slightly, and Imoen knew that her words had hit their mark. More than once in their travels, Imoen had watched Kaelis try to go on, wounded and exhausted, held back only by the concern in Anomen's eyes and his countless whispered pleas.  But he wasn't here now, and Imoen had watched Kaelis' face grow paler by the day while the shadows under her eyes grew darker in contrast.  She gave Kaelis' arm a gentle squeeze.

"Please, Kae."

Kaelis opened her eyes and lifted her head, and the lump in Imoen's throat tightened at the sight of a single tear making its way down her cheek.

"Kae, I'm sorry…  I…."

Kaelis shook her head and bent to retrieve the carved scabbard.  "No, Im…  You're right.  I _do_ need some sleep.  I just…."  Her voice trailed off and she shook her head, slipping the sword into its scabbard.

Imoen nodded.  "I know."  After a moment, she let her hand slip from Kaelis' arm and sat up, running her hands through her hair and sighing softly.  Kaelis slung the sword and scabbard over her shoulder, then bent to lift the other.  

Imoen cleared her throat gently.  "I…  think Jaheira may have a sleeping draught in that portable apothecary of hers."  She stood up and stretched her back, looking up at the night sky.  "Do you want me to go see?"

Kaelis hesitated, her hand open over the sword.  She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again after a moment and nodded without a word.

Imoen paused for a long moment, then gave a brief nod of her own and turned, taking a step back toward the tents and the deep hum of voices.  Someone was laughing, someone else singing, off-key and more loudly than was probably necessary.  Something about honor, and glory, and the boot of righteousness implanting itself in the buttocks of nastiness.  She had never heard that song sung quite like that before.  She had a feeling that a certain ranger had been given a little too much to drink.  _I'd better find him before Jaheira does, but first things first…._  Imoen smiled and shook her head, starting more purposefully toward the camp.

"Im?"

Imoen turned back, glancing over her shoulder with the smile still on her lips.  Kaelis had stood, her twin swords strapped expertly to her slender back, the cleaning cloth and sharpening stone held easily in one small hand.  A few stubborn auburn curls had escaped the braid at her back and were blowing gently around her face in the night air.  The moon had hidden the shadows under her eyes and softened the tired lines around her mouth, but the slight droop of her shoulders said everything.  Well, _almost_ everything.

"I'm glad you're here."

Imoen's smile slowly gave way to a trademark grin, and she gave a single brief nod before turning back toward the camp. 

*** 

Anomen gazed silently at the moon high above the trees, leaning heavily against an ancient stone. He could not sleep. Kaelis was constantly in his thoughts, and when he closed his eyes he dreamed only of her face, her voice. It was too much for him to bear, and at last he had thrown himself from his bed and had gone out into the darkness, the large silver disk of the moon catching and holding his eyes. 

He had gazed at it in silence for a long time, marveling that anything could seem so beautiful in this place. But the moon _was_ beautiful, silver and majestic, and he found himself speaking to the wind, his voice barely more than a whisper. 

"Do you see the moon, Kaelis? Does it appear so large where you are?" He smiled at his own foolishness, but spoke again, unwilling to let go of the childish hope that she could hear him, wherever she was. "So beautiful. Like your eyes…." 

His stomach tightened at the thought of her eyes, large and green and full of laughter. His arms ached to hold her.  He longed to feel the rhythm of her heartbeat under the smooth skin of her throat, the soft weight of her tired head on his shoulder.  He had only ever held her thus, her head on his shoulder, his arms around her, his fingers playing idly with the long auburn curls, the rough surface of her worn leather armor as she slept.  It had been… difficult.  

He had made a promise long ago both to himself and to Kaelis, after hearing of her treatment at the hands of the madman Irenicus.  And he had kept it faithfully, though it meant many long, wakeful nights in a lonely bed.  He had never known the touch of her hands, the softness of her body against his, had never heard her breathless whispers in the darkness.  There had been many sleepless nights, but tonight the longing was unbearable.  Perhaps it was best that she was not here.  He prided himself on his strength, his resolve, and yet if she were here….  He smiled in spite of himself and cursed his weakness, her beauty, and the five hundred miles that stood between them. 

He turned away from the moon and moved slowly through the snow, back to his tent.  The camp was quiet, dark.  A few soldiers moved restlessly in front of the eastern gate, their weapons ready in their hands and their voices subdued.  As he approached, Anomen nodded to them wordlessly and they returned the greeting, saluting quickly in the informal way that he preferred.  The Order would frown upon such informality, of course, but at the moment Anomen cared very little about what the Order thought about anything.

He reached his tent, lifting the skin over the door. He paused upon the threshold, then looked over his shoulder at the great silver disk of the moon.  It seemed to have drawn closer still, and he found himself whispering again to the wind, his words disappearing into the air as soon as they left his lips.

"Sleep well, my love. I hold you in my dreams."

***

Kaelis let the tent flap fall closed behind her, then stood for a moment just inside the doorway, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness.  Slowly, the shadows became clearer and she made her way through the tiny, crowded tent to where her cot lay unmade in the corner.  She dropped her swords onto the floor beside it with a sigh, then ran a hand over her forehead.

She could have sworn that she had heard Anomen's voice on the wind. _Do you see the moon, Kaelis? Does it appear so large where you are? _

Her chest tightened painfully, and she cursed under her breath, dropping onto the cot and throwing her arm over her eyes. She tried to banish the words from her mind, but they echoed in her thoughts, and others followed quickly, carried by the soft night breeze that made its way through the doorway and into the darkness of the tent.  

_So beautiful. Like your eyes…._

She could almost feel him in the darkness, feel the solid warmth of his shoulder as she lay her weary head upon it at the end of a particularly fierce battle, feel the warmth of his arms as they wrapped around her, feel the stir of his breath on her hair as they slept, her head on his shoulder, his cheek on her hair, their backs against the wall of some godforsaken place.  But now he was far away, and despite Sir Ryan's assurances, the location of the Order's forces in the Silver Mountains was still unknown.  All at once, she felt powerless, and empty, and alone. And she was tired. So tired….

She kicked off her boots and let them fall to the floor with a thud, not moving her arm from her eyes.  She could hear the wind plucking at the skin covering the doorway, could feel the soft stirring of the air as it made its way in through the cracks.  It smelled of rain, and of smoke, and of steel.  She could hear the voices of soldiers as they made their way through the tents, some talking in low voices, others laughing.  But it was a whisper that caught her attention, even through the warm fog of sleep that was slowly creeping over her mind.

_Sleep well, my love.  I hold you in my dreams._


	10. Chapter IX

**Author's Note:**  The character of Drizzt Do'Urden makes his first appearance in this chapter of the story.  At the time that I wrote this, my only experience with Drizzt had been his appearance in the Baldur's Gate series.  I had not read the book by R.A. Salvatore, and my apologies if Drizzt seems completely out of character.  This was just how I saw him at the time.  :) 

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**Disclaimer:**  I own nothing related to Bioware, Interplay, or the Baldur's Gate series other than copies of the games themselves and an overactive imagination.  Nor do I own anything related to the Forgotten Realms, including, but not limited to, Drizzt Do'Urden.  Thank you.  :)

* * *

**Journey to the North  
Chapter IX  
  
  
  
**Janus could hear the wolves breaking through the underbrush behind him, their growls growing louder and harsher as the beasts drew nearer. He urged his horse onward, leaning low over its back to avoid the limbs and leaves that flew by just over his head, praying silently to Helm for the continued health and use of his eyes and all other useful parts of his body. He started in the saddle as a howl near him cut through the night like a knife, answered shortly by others all around him, surrounding him in a cacophony of canine conversation. 

He swore in his mind for the third time that his mastiff would be sold the very moment he returned to Athkatla, and pressed his knees more firmly into the horse's sides, silently pleading for more speed as he began to hear the ragged breathing of a wolf at his foot. He kicked out without looking, and his boot hit a solid mass of muscle and bone with a satisfying thump. The creature yelped, then whined slightly as it fell away, and though the victory was small, it encouraged Janus.  He cried to the horse to fly, leaning close enough to the horse's neck that he could feel the foam flying from the velvet coat. 

The others had fallen some time ago. The wolves had poured from the shadows without warning, silver streaks in the moonlit night that betrayed the three riders in their hurried flight to the southwest. The initial rush had been easily avoided, the Athkatlan horses smoothly outrunning each gleaming form as they leapt over brush and brook. But even Athkatlan steeds had limits to their endurance, and as the horses' hooves began to feel the first struggles on the uneven forest floor, the wolves had raised their cry to the heavens, and other, faster creatures began to join in the pursuit, larger animals with coats of gleaming frost and eyes of steel. Ran and Paol had been surrounded quickly, the snarling beasts pulling their horses from underneath them.  Janus had shut his eyes tightly against the echoing screams of terror that were abruptly silenced in the roar of the kill. He said an unspoken prayer to Helm for their souls and for their forgiveness as he fled from the slaughter like a madman, turning back in the saddle only to see a few of the wolves pull away from the scene and fly after him like ghosts in the night. 

The winter wolves had been following Janus closely for the better part of the night. The horse beneath him was sure and fast, and had managed to stay a few lengths ahead of the pack for the past several hours. Janus marveled at the horse's feat even as he knew with a sick feeling that it could not last forever. Though he urged the horse on now with hoarse whispers and urgent kicks, he could feel the beast beginning to tire, and could hear the whispering footsteps on the snowy ground draw closer. His heart sank further, and at last he turned his head only slightly to see a group of new shapes streaming from the shadows to the south, their coats shining scarlet in the moonlight. _Vampiric wolves._

The thought passed rather randomly through his mind that the appearance of the new creatures heralded his exit from the foothills of the Silver Mountains and into the forested flatlands that surrounded the Friendly Arm Inn. Under any other circumstances, the realization would have brought a profound relief, but there was no time as Janus felt his horse stumble, crying shrilly as the first of the wolves sank its sharp teeth into the hindquarter. Janus felt the creature fall to its knees and instinctively drew his sword from its sheath, turning with a shout of rage as he made a desperate jump from the saddle. He made the leap just in time to avoid having his legs crushed by the falling animal, but instead landed in the path of an oncoming wolf. It raised a blood-chilling howl of triumph and lunged for Janus' throat. The fighter turned and swung his sword instinctively, crying hoarsely as he felt the blade slice through the wolf's shoulder, then the neck.  He pulled his sword free with a jerk as the animal slumped to the ground in a spreading, steaming pool of blood. Janus spun as he heard another wolf rush at him from behind, and raised his sword to strike. The weapon fell, and the blow was true, cleaving the animal's skull in two and leaving the beast to lie quivering beside its fellow. 

Janus took a step back from the fallen animals and turned just in time to see three crimson streaks flying at him across the snow. He took a ready stance, his sword balanced lightly in his hand, and watched as the wolves drew closer, their howls echoing evilly on the icy air. He murmured under his breath, "For the Order…." Then he raised his sword into the air, the moonlight gleaming like a silver flame on the polished steel.  He took a step toward his attackers, his heart racing with the desperate courage of the damned.  
  
"For the Order!" 

He never saw the creatures that came from behind. The wolf's leap upon his back was like a blow from a sledgehammer, throwing him to the ground.  For a moment he struggled to breathe, not fully comprehending until the sword fell from his hand and disappeared into the thinning blanket of snow with a hiss. He groped for it blindly, twisting his body violently in a frantic effort to dislodge the animal that roared and snarled on his back. 

Janus cried out in pain and rage as he felt the razor-sharp teeth tear into the unprotected skin of his shoulder.  Silently he cursed to the sky his decision to ride lightly, wearing only traveling leathers instead of the heavier plate armor worn by the Knights of the Order. Sir Anomen had urged him repeatedly to reconsider, but the scout had refused, deciding to trade defense for speed in the night. Now he wondered at his wisdom as he felt the warmth of his blood spreading down his arm and over his neck. He made another desperate attempt to roll over, tearing his flesh from the slavering fangs. He scrambled to his knees, but fell again as another wolf leapt on him from the front. 

He felt the flames of pain searing his back as another sank its teeth into the leather, then muscle, then felt the same blazing in his thigh as a third animal tore at the flesh there, pulling at its prize like a selfish child. Janus tried to pull away, to crawl away, but his muscles stubbornly refused to respond to his commands, and at last he sank to the earth with a barely audible groan of defeat. He felt the chill of the snow beneath him begin to sink into his body, and he knew that he was going to die. "Helm forgive me…." was all that he managed to coax from his blood-caked lips as he laid his head on the snow, closing his eyes in the sudden exhaustion of mortal shock. 

Suddenly one of the wolves let out a whining shriek of pain, and Janus felt an strange lightness as it sprang from his body.  He heard a snarl, then the familiar crunch of steel crushing bone. He felt the animal fall to the ground beside him, the shivering body heavy against his wounded arm. He opened his eyes slightly and saw that the animal's head had been neatly removed from its body.  A stain of crimson was beginning to spread on the ground under its neck, hissing slightly as the snow beneath it melted into a sanguine slush. 

His mind was slow and filled with a crimson fog.  It struggled through his exhaustion to understand what had just happened. He tried to raise his head as he heard the sound of other wolves rushing to where he lay, but instead of the expected attack on his own helpless form, they seemed to be aiming toward another, unseen foe a few feet behind Janus, leaping over the scout's helpless body as easily as they would jump a wounded rabbit. He struggled to turn over toward the source of the sudden diversion, but he moaned as a sickening fire spread through his body, darkening his sight and sending a nausea through him that checked any further movement. 

"Stay still, fool!"   
  
The harsh command was punctuated by the sound of another wolf falling to the earth with a thud, and Janus obeyed the strange voice without question, closing his eyes and surrendering to the cold sluggishness that was creeping over him. The sounds of battle around him slowly blurred into what seemed a dream, and he felt the warm oblivion of unconsciousness dancing at the corners of his mind. The cold seemed to fade, the darkness to envelop him, until at last he felt strong hands on his arms turning him over unceremoniously, and he felt the cool smoothness of glass touching his lip. A cool liquid tingled upon his tongue, filling him with a sweet radiance that soothed his limbs and woke his mind into a sort of fragile alertness. He tried to raise his head, and coughed as more of the precious fluid slid unexpectedly down his throat. The vial was pulled from his lips, and the same strong hands lifted him into a somewhat more elevated position, though he could still feel the icy moisture of the earth at his back. 

"Careful, friend." The voice was deep, but had a strangely musical quality that was unfamiliar to Janus' exhausted ears. "There is little enough to be had, and none to spare to carelessness." The vial was pressed to Janus' lips again, and he felt the same glow spread through his body as he drank more eagerly, feeling warmth and vitality spread slowly through his injured frame. All too soon the vial was pulled away, and the strange voice spoke again. 

"That is all that I can spare for the time being. Your body will have to continue the healing on its own." Janus struggled to open his eyes, and saw at first only vague shadows, dark against dark. It took several moments for his vision to clear, or so he thought.  He saw only two spots of brilliant white against a form that seemed vaguely human, but was utter darkness. 

"You seem to have found more trouble than you were prepared for, stranger. If you can speak, tell me your name and where you were bound before you met with these rather… irritating beasts." More brilliant white appeared in the darkness as the words were spoken, and Janus realized with a start that he was looking at a face, as black as the night, with eyes of amethyst. Brilliant white hair shone silver in the moonlight, and was pulled neatly away from the face.  The face itself was both strong and finely chiseled, with delicate features that spoke of elven blood, yet seemed strange, foreign. The word was whispered in the corners of Janus' mind.   
  
_Drow._

Janus closed his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but could force no sound from his throat. The nameless Drow watched Janus with narrowed eyes for several minutes, patiently waiting for the words that finally fell from Janus' struggling lips. 

"Friendly… Arm…." 

The dark elf raised an eyebrow. "The Friendly Arm is a good enough inn, stranger, but the ale is hardly worth risking one's life for, and all but the most costly beds are sufferable at best. If you're meeting your lover, may I suggest…." 

Janus made a motion that seemed nothing more than a pathetic shake of the head, and the words were repeated. 

"Fr… Friendly… Arm…."

*** 

The Drow sighed rather noisily. The man seemed deucedly determined. The dark elf sat back on his heels and gazed at him for a moment in silence, then noticed a single folded piece of parchment peering from the opening of the wounded man's tunic.   He tilted his head thoughtfully, then leaned forward and pulled the letter from the man's tunic with slender fingers.  Yes, it was a letter.  The seal was of red wax, unbroken, and it seemed to be imprinted with two seals. The outer ring was a symbol that he did not recognize, though it seemed as though it _should_ be familiar.  The other was that of an eagle, head in profile, wings outstretched. His silver brows drew together in a frown. The eagle he _had_ seen before.

_Delryn. _

The drow tucked the folded parchment into his own tunic and stood, grasping the wounded man's arms and pulling him rather abruptly to his feet. "Can you walk?"   
  
The wounded soldier wavered on his legs without answering.  With a muttered curse in his native tongue, the Drow took one of the soldier's arms, then one of his legs and lifted him easily onto his slender shoulders. Lowering himself slightly, he lifted a battered pack from the rapidly cooling corpse of the fallen horse and looped it over one of his new companion's legs.  Then he turned without a word and started walking to the southwest. 

Drizzt Do'Urden was going to have to carry the man to the Friendly Arm. 


	11. Chapter X

**Author's Note: ** Yes, he's back! *grins* (Some of you will be thrilled, some of you... not so much! *smirk*) Again, this was written before I had read any of the books by R.A. Salvatore, so please be kind to Drizzt. He's having a rough day. *grins*

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**Disclaimer:** I own nothing related to Bioware, Interplay, or the Baldur's Gate series other than copies of the games themselves and an overactive imagination. Nor do I own anything related to the Forgotten Realms, including, but not limited to, Drizzt Do'Urden. Thank you. :) 

* * *

**Journey to the North  
Chapter X**

The table collapsed with a splintering crash and the harsh tinkle of a dozen shattered glasses. The soldiers closest to the destruction jumped back just in time to avoid the shattered table and the man who had shattered it. Chairs overturned, and raucous laughter echoed through the common room of the Friendly Arm Inn. Several soldiers raised their rescued glasses to the huge ranger sitting, or rather laying in the midst of the devastation. 

Minsc lay there for only a moment. Then he rose to his elbows, shaking his head vigorously and raining a glittering shower of wine and glass on those around him. He looked with a dazed expression at the faces surrounding him for a long moment, then broke into an enormous grin and added his booming laugh to the others. 

Imoen's lighter, musical laughter quickly followed. She fairly danced to where her fallen friend lay and extended a small hand to help Minsc to his feet. Minsc looked at the tiny hand with a rather vacant expression, then up at Imoen, wonder in his large gray eyes. A little ball of golden fur peeped nervously out of the open collar of Minsc's shirt, emitting a scathing series of chirps and squeals in Imoen's general direction before disappearing once again. 

"Boo says," Minsc began, waving his head unsteadily, "that you… That…." He paused briefly, then fell silent and looked around thoughtfully, as though he had not spoken at all. He blinked his clouded eyes and rubbed a single huge hand over his bald head. 

Imoen giggled and grabbed Minsc's hand from where it lay on his shaven scalp. She pulled helplessly against his enormous bulk, pleading. "C'mon, big guy, you can't just stay sitting there." 

Minsc did not move so much as an inch, and Imoen laughed harder, bracing herself and tugging with all her strength. "Get up, you big… you big…." 

Unfortunately, this was the moment that her hand chose to slip from Minsc's, and she stumbled backward with a startled cry, landing squarely on her rump a few feet away. At that, another cheer rose from the surrounding soldiers, and she glared at them with a smile tugging at her lips. "Thank you very much." 

Then she turned her glare upon Minsc. "I swear, Minsc," she groaned, rubbing her injured behind as she got to her feet, "It would be easier to dance with Boo! You positively have two left feet!" 

Minsc pondered her words for a moment and shook his head very seriously. "Well, then I have a very great problem, for I have only one left boot." He started to stand, wavering dangerously. "And Boo," he declared firmly, straightening his enormous shoulders, "is a very good dancer." 

Imoen took his hand with a laugh and started pulling again. "_Sure_ he is." 

At last, Minsc made it to his feet, and yet another cheer rose from the crowd. Minsc grinned a little foolishly and waved to his unlikely public, then froze as he saw the shattered table at his feet. He stared at it for a moment, blinked, then stared some more. "Someone," he began, pointing an enormous finger at the wooden carnage, "has broken that table." 

Imoen burst into another fit of giggles and started pulling him away. "No kidding, big guy!" Minsc did not move, and she pulled harder. "And Jaheira's going to have puppies if she sees it! I think she's still upset about the incident in the kitchen. Turkeys aren't _supposed_ to fly, you know. Especially roasted ones…." 

Minsc resisted, nearly pulling Imoen from her feet, and continued to gesture at the devastated table, saying in a desperate voice, "But the table! The table must be avenged!" 

Imoen looked over her shoulder. Her eyes widened, and she tugged at his arm more urgently. "Come _on_, Minsc!" 

Minsc turned to Imoen and opened his mouth to argue. "But…." He followed the little mage's gaze and his own eyes grew large. Jaheira was pushing her way through the still-laughing crowd, her steely eyes flashing angrily. 

Without another word, Minsc grabbed Imoen's hand and turned, pulling her into the crowd on the side farthest from the approaching druid. Imoen let out a startled yelp, a muffled giggle, and the two disappeared. 

*** 

Jaheira sighed and glanced over the devastation. She could see Minsc's bald head bobbing away from her in the opposite direction, easily visible over the heads of the other patrons, and from the series of muffled giggles accompanying his flight, Imoen was not far behind. Jaheira shook her head in frustration and put her hands on her hips. The child was a bad influence, there was no doubt about that, but Jaheira was fond of her all the same. 

With a tired sigh, Jaheira shook her head again and reached for the small money purse at her belt. She took out a few coins, weighed them in her slender hand for a moment, and then passed them over to the small gnome who had suddenly appeared at her elbow. 

Bentley Mirrorshade smiled and bowed. "My thanks, Jaheira." He counted the coins quickly and nodded. 

"Just enough. Now about the kitchen window…." 

Jaheira muttered under her breath and handed over a few more coins. "And the turkey… fine bird, that…. " More coins. "And the rug in the upstairs hall…." Still more coins. "And the credenza…." 

Jaheira looked at him, narrowing her eyes slightly as she dropped the last of her coins into Bentley's already crowded palm. "I've told you before to water down your ale, gnome." 

Bentley chuckled under his breath, then winked and pocketed the money. "Lowers the profit margins, my Lady." 

Jaheira let a smile pull at her lips and returned her attention to the crowd of soldiers. There was a pleasant moment of silence while Bentley walked to the bar to retrieve a flagon of ale for himself and a glass of water for Jaheira. He returned and offered the water to Jaheira, who raised an eyebrow. 

"You have the last of my coins, Bentley." 

Bentley shrugged with a smile and offered the glass again. "No charge for this one, Lady Jaheira. I would offer you ale, but I know you wouldn't take it." 

Jaheira laughed quietly and took the glass, nodding her thanks. 

Bentley took a long pull of his ale, then nodded toward the soldiers. "So… where are they headed?" 

Jaheira paused for a moment, then said, "To the Silver Mountains." She glanced over at Bentley. "There is an evil there that must be dealt with, and we are here to deal with it." 

Bentley looked a little surprised. "You're with this lot, then?"" 

Jaheira nodded, returning her gaze to the knights as a small group began a rather enthusiastic rendition of _The Maiden and the Moon_. One of them was severely off-key, and Jaheira cringed slightly at the musical massacre. "We are. Myself, Minsc, Imoen, and Kaelis." 

"Kaelis." The gnome nodded. "I was wondering about that, actually. Ana saw her come in earlier, after the rest of you had made yourselves… _comfortable._ Moved herself into a corner, she did, and ordered nothing more than a single draught of ale and a meat pie." 

He shook his head a bit sadly. "I took it to her myself. Wanted to say hello. She thanked me kindly enough, she did, but that was all I could get out of her. Didn't want to talk much, I'm afraid." He looked at Jaheira. "Awfully unlike her, if you ask me." 

"_Did_ anyone ask you?" 

Bentley merely shrugged off Jaheira's sharpness and glanced toward the shadowy corner where Kaelis sat alone at a small wooden table. "I just mention it, that's all. I like Kaelis, Jaheira. You know that." He let out a short sigh. "She was always a friendly little thing, even after all that's happened. Her eyes were a bit harder there at the end, but she always had a smile for a friend. She has a smile to light a moonless night, that one. I'd like to see it now. That I would." 

Jaheira followed his gaze, saying nothing. 

Bentley watched Kaelis thoughtfully for a moment, humming softly to himself. Then he took another pull of his ale and said, "I wonder that the group of you would involve yourself in something like this." He shrugged lightly. "I would think that a large group of well-trained Amnish knights would be able to march right over any wolves or trolls that have the lack of brains to get in their way. I doubt this lot would even have to stop to clean their boots." 

Jaheira looked down at Bentley, raising an eyebrow. "You have heard something of it, then?" 

Bentley's voice remained conversational, but there was a light in his eyes that spoke of more than idle curiosity. "I hear a lot of things, good lady. This is a large inn, and I will serve a hundred more drinks and hear as many tales before the last of these soldiers falls into his drunken bed." 

Jaheira nodded slowly, turning her glass in her fingers. "I don't doubt that, Master Mirrorshade." She paused for a moment, then looked back toward the great room. "Tell me, have you heard anything else?" 

"I have, Lady Jaheira, but I hesitate to say." 

She smiled to herself. "You need keep nothing from me, old friend." 

Bentley stood motionless for a moment, his sharp eyes still watching Kaelis in her dark corner. "They say," he began, "that a regiment of Amnish soldiers has been missing in the Silver Mountains for some months. Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart, if I'm not mistaken." 

Jaheira took a drink. "You're not." 

"I've heard that there has no word from them for some weeks now." 

"There hasn't." 

"And that there is a possibility that their ranks have been completely destroyed." 

"There is." 

"By trolls?" 

"I doubt it." 

Bentley nodded thoughtfully in agreement. He took another drink, hummed a few more measures of a nameless tune, and then said more quietly. "They say that the leader of the regiment is a handsome young Lord from the Amnish capitol." 

"He is." 

"Delryn, I think his name was." 

Jaheira turned her glass again in her fingers. "That's right." 

The old barkeeper was silent for a moment, then shook his head sadly and nodded toward where Kaelis was sitting. "She loves him." It wasn't a question. 

Jaheira nodded slowly. "Yes, she does." 

Bentley's nodded again. "And he?" 

"Followed her to Hell and back, and would do so again." 

"Ah…." Bentley sighed slowly, rubbing his hand over his head. "I suppose that explains it, then." 

Jaheira looked down curiously. "Does it, now?" 

The innkeeper smiled a little sadly. "Aye, it does." He gestured toward the soldiers. "They're searching for their brothers in the Radiant Heart, and Kaelis…" He sighed softly, shaking his head. "Well, Kaelis is searching for own heart." 

They both stood in silence for quite some time, watching Kaelis. She was still staring at the table, idly flicking at a plate of food with her dagger. In shadows, the dark circles under her eyes were hidden, but the druid knew that they were there. Kaelis had not eaten more than a few mouthfuls in the past week, and she had slept only with the help of a carefully prepared sleeping draught. It was all too familiar, and Kaelis would not suffer as she had. That she swore. 

Jaheira started when Bentley leaned over and spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "A man was brought in tonight." 

Jaheira's delicate ears perked up at the words. "Tell me, Bentley…." 

Bentley looked up at the druid and said, "He was wounded. He had tried to come from the mountains, apparently. With a message, no doubt, though we couldn't find it on him." 

Jaheira nodded for him to continue, and he did. "I'm afraid I can't tell you much more than that. He's sleeping off his injuries in an upstairs room. My darling Gellana was surprised he had made it as long as he did. It took her several healing spells to clean him up." 

Jaheira frowned. "He made it here himself? Injured? From the Silver Mountains?" 

Bentley's eyes were full of meaning. "No. He was _carried_ in." 

Jaheira shook her head in disbelief. "_Carried_ in? By whom?" 

Bentley glanced over at Kaelis and nodded his head in her direction. Jaheira quickly followed his gaze and saw a dark figure in worn armor walking toward Kaelis, his pale hair all but glowing in the firelight. His step was sure and strong, and even from this distance, Jaheira could see the faint smile playing on his lips. His features were sharp and elven, his skin the color of night. 

Jaheira shook her head slowly, tightening her fingers around her glass. 

"Silvanus save us. What is _he_ doing here?" 

*** 

Drizzt Do'Urden slid gracefully into the seat across from Kaelis. He said nothing. After a minute, Kaelis looked up from where she had been picking at the now-cold meat pie with her dagger, her emerald eyes widening slightly as recognition dawned within them. Her motions slowed, then stopped altogether, and a wry smile curled one corner of her mouth. Her companion watched her with laughing eyes, folding his arms over his chest and shifting his weight contentedly in his chair. 

"Well, well, well… What have we here?" 

Kaelis laughed softly and shook her head, looking back down at the table. She said nothing for some moments. Then she dropped her dagger to the table and looked up again. "I could ask you the same question." 

Drizzt shrugged lightly, feigning deep contemplation. "I suppose you _could_… But I doubt you will." 

Kaelis smiled and shook her head, looking back down at the table. She picked up her dagger and turned it over in her fingers. She could feel his gaze still upon her, and she looked up after a moment. There was an unreadable expression in his lavender eyes. She took a deep breath, straightened in her chair and tucked a stray curl behind her ear, returning the smile to her face "How are you, Drizzt?" 

He pursed his lips thoughtfully and nodded. "Well enough." 

"And Guenwhyvar?" 

Drizzt smiled fondly. "Resting after a long journey, but my friend is well. And yourself?" 

Kaelis let out a little sighing groan and rubbed her hands wearily over her face. "To be perfectly honest, I've had better days." 

Drizzt nodded, the solemn gesture somewhat spoiled by the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I don't doubt it." He let his eyes roam over her face and hair, then laughed and said, "You look like The Abyss." 

Kaelis dropped her hands and made a face. "Thank you very much." 

Kaelis was trying not to smile, but Drizzt laughed again, a pleasant, almost musical sound, and she soon found herself joining him, though somewhat more quietly. It felt good to laugh. It had been too long. 

She shook her head, letting out a deeply contented breath. "So what are you doing here, Drizzt?" She looked up to meet his lavender gaze. "Are you following some grand adventure? Ridding the world of evil and prejudice? Or did the wind simply tell you of my coming here, and you thought you would drop by to terrorize your favorite Child of Hell?" 

Drizzt laughed again, throwing back his head. The deep rumble of his laughter rose even over the laughter of the countless soldiers milling aroud the great room. He looked back at Kaelis and shook his head, a few last chuckles breaking from his chest. 

"_Terrorize?_ Come now, Kaelis." He shifted his arms slightly into a more comfortable position, the amusement still dancing in his eyes. "I simply could not _resist_ a glimpse of the legendary Kaelis of Candlekeep." 

Kaelis rolled her eyes and he continued, his voice a bit lower. "Yes. Kaelis of Candlekeep. The stories reach even Icewind Dale. Although…." He leaned forward and took Kaelis' dagger from the table, glancing at it quickly before looking up again. "I _have_ heard rumors that Candlekeep is no longer your home." 

Kaelis looked up quickly. Drizzt's gaze was sharp and piercing, his question heavy with inference, and after a moment Kaelis found herself forced to look away. She was suddenly keenly interested in the game of dice that a few of the younger knights had started a few tables from hers. 

Drizzt sighed and leaned back again, turning the dagger over in his fingers. "Kaelis…." 

The deep voice drew her eyes back to his, holding them there for several minutes. There was an intensity to his gaze that made her feel somewhat uncomfortable, but she was reluctant to look away. At last she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I have been staying at the Delryn estate in Athkatla, at Anomen's… Lord Delryn's invitation." 

Drizzt's jaw tightened slightly and he looked away, the impromptu game of dice now apparently the center of _his_ attention. 

Kaelis waited for a moment, then continued softly. "Are you surprised?" 

Drizzt did not meet her eyes, but he shook his head. "No." He sat motionless for some time, then added, "I wish I were." 

It was now Kaelis' turn to watch in silence. Neither companion moved, nor wanted to break the heavy stillness. Drizzt held his head proudly, but his face was carefully expressionless, and his amethyst eyes flashed with something that sent a cold shiver down into the pit of Kaelis' stomach. 

After what seemed an eternity, Drizzt sighed and shifted in his chair. He looked at her quickly, then dropped his feet noisily to the floor and reached into his armor. He pulled out a folded piece of parchment sealed with a crumbling disk of red wax. Crumbling, but intact. He tossed it lightly onto the table in front of her. Then he leaned back in his chair again, nodding to the letter. "You'll want to see that." 

Kaelis looked at Drizzt curiously for a long moment, then turned her eyes to the letter on the table. She lifted it and turned it over, bringing it close to examine the seal. As she saw the familiar figure of the Delryn eagle imprinted in the wax, her face paled. She looked up at Drizzt, her voice just above a whisper. 

"Where did you get this?" 

His voice was bored, his attitude nonchalant, but the intensity remained in his eyes. "On a dying man." 

Kaelis' gaze faltered, and the hand holding the folded parchment began to tremble as the chill in her stomach turned completely to ice. Drizzt's eyes softened slightly and he leaned forward again, saying quietly. "Kaelis… It wasn't Delryn." 

Kaelis looked at Drizzt for a long moment with a vacant expression, then nodded hesitantly and looked at the letter in her hands. 

Drizzt remained low over the table, speaking in a low voice. "I found a man… a messenger for this Order, no doubt. He was carrying this letter when I found him. I recognized the seal." 

Kaelis' voice had regained some of its strength, and she nodded almost imperceptibly. "The… outer seal on this letter is the Order's. They… leave a space in the center for the commander's personal insignia." 

"Which in this case is Delryn's." 

Kaelis glanced up. Drizzt waved off her surprised expression and said simply, "I have seen it before, Kaelis. You forget." 

Kaelis shuddered slightly, her mind traveling back to a dark crypt below the graveyards of Athkatla. She could still see the dark chamber filled with fountains of blood, and the body that had lain lifeless on the floor when the other vampires had faded into mist. 

Anomen had begged her to kill him, had pleaded for hers to be the sword that took the grim mockery of life that Bodhi had placed upon him. She remembered her hand shaking violently as she pulled her sword from his chest, the look of peace that shone in his sapphire eyes that even Bodhi's evil could not dim, her despair as he closed them for what she thought would be the last time. She could still hear her name on his lips, a lingering murmur on a dying breath. 

Drizzt had stood behind her at a discreet distance, watching Kaelis with the same pale, brooding eyes that lingered on her now. 

She looked up. "I've not forgotten." 

He watched her closely, his eyes darkening slightly in their intensity. "I asked you to come with me then. Do you remember?" 

Kaelis paused, then closed her eyes and nodded. "I remember, Drizzt." 

It seemed an eternity before Drizzt spoke again. 

"That offer still stands, Kaelis." 

She shook her head. "You know I can't." 

"Kaelis…." 

Kaelis sighed softly, then opened her eyes and smiled in spite of herself. "There was a time, Drizzt, when I would have followed you to the end of the world, asking for nothing more than a laugh or a kind word." Drizzt's gaze finally faltered, and he looked away, but she continued. 

"I remember when you used to come to Candlekeep to visit Gorion. I remember peering through the doorway with Imoen as you talked about things going on in places I had never heard of. I remember sitting in front of the fire in the kitchen, listening to your stories and songs. So many faraway places, so many strange people and…." 

She laughed softly, shaking her head. "Imoen had a terrible crush on you, you know." She paused for a moment. "I suppose we both did." 

Drizzt looked up. His voice was low, almost pleading for understanding. "You were a child, Kaelis. Full of life, vibrant and beautiful, but a child nonetheless." He shook his head quickly. "You had seen no more than fourteen summers when I last visited Candlekeep. How could I have known…?" 

Kaelis smiled and cut him off. "I know. I don't think you recognized me when we met again, that first time south of High Hedge. Do you remember?" 

Drizzt laughed in spite of himself and nodded his head. "I do, and I didn't. Not at first, I'll admit. After all, you had…" He cleared his throat softly and arched a single pale eyebrow. "grown quite a bit." 

Kaelis laughed, but said nothing, and Drizzt went on. "I had only known the child. I saw a woman. Still young, but no longer the child." 

Kaelis smiled a little sadly. "No, Drizzt. Still a child." 

Drizzt's eyes were soft. "Perhaps, but so much more. Forgive me, my friend. I was a fool. And now I pay the price for my blindness." 

Kaelis looked at Drizzt for a long moment. Neither spoke. At last Kaelis tore her eyes away and looked again at the paper in her hands. 

Drizzt watched her for another moment, then sighed quietly and nodded to the letter. "I recognized Delryn's emblem on the seal and had planned to take this letter to Athkatla, and into his hands." He smiled. "Though I admit I would have preferred yours. But the man in the forest was… rather _insistent_ that he be brought here, and so I brought him. He's upstairs, if you wish to see him." 

Kaelis broke the seal and opened the letter carefully. A small note fluttered from within to rest on the worn table. Kaelis looked at it briefly, but did not pick it up. Instead, she looked back at the letter, a look of confusion crossing her eyes as she quickly scanned its contents. 

"This letter is not to me," she started, shaking her head slightly. "It's a list. It looks like a list of potions, and… scrolls. _Healing, Extra Healing, Superior Healing, Invisibility, Magic Resistance, Haste, Protection from Evil_…." 

She frowned slightly. "It is in Anomen's hand, I know, but it seems… rushed. It was written in a hurry." She looked up at Drizzt. "He's preparing. Preparing for something _big_." 

Drizzt shook his head, frowning thoughtfully. "The man I found carried no money, nothing with which he could buy supplies. There must have been others that were lost." 

Drizzt's eyes blazed with anger, and he slammed his hand down on the table, drawing confused looks from several of the soldiers. Drizzt ignored them completely, looking back at Kaelis. He pulled his hand from the table and said quietly, "I found no one else in the surrounding area. My friend must have made it a great deal further than his companions." 

Kaelis nodded in agreement, then went back to reading the letter with growing interest. "He also leaves instructions to inform the Order of the regiment's situation. To let them know that…." 

Her eyes widened slightly, and she read the beginning of the letter over again, noting each potion and each spell requested. They all confirmed her conclusion, and her heart sank. "He's fighting a lich, Drizzt. Or something like it, but…." Her eyes looked up at Drizzt, and found the loathing in her eyes matched only by his own. She glanced back at the middle of the letter, where she had been reading. "They didn't tell him. Damn them all, they didn't tell him!" She threw the parchment to the table in disgust. 

Drizzt's eyes glittered coldly as he picked up the letter from the table and read Anomen's clear script. "_I only pray that Helm will forgive you for what you have done. The men should have been informed. The blood of the fallen cries out against you already, and I do not doubt that more voices will join them before the week is through. They will be brought blameless into the Watcher's embrace. Can you say the same?_'" 

Drizzt looked back at Kaelis, raising an eyebrow. "I see your friend Anomen has not yet learned the subtle art of diplomacy." 

Kaelis scowled and snatched the letter from his hands. She started reading again. 

Drizzt looked down at the smaller paper still laying on the table and picked it up. He looked at the name written on the front in bold letters. He turned it over a few times in his fingers, then, then sighed softly and offered it to Kaelis without a word. She looked up at the movement, then took the letter. She glanced at Drizzt curiously, then opened the letter and began to read. 

_My dearest Kaelis, _

_My hands tremble as I write these words, for I fear that I now write them for the last time. These days grow dark, and my heart grows darker still, for I now know the evil that I have come here to face, and it fills me with a dread that I cannot allow. We ride to battle within the week. The men look to me with confidence, and if there is to be any measure of victory in this Helm-forsaken place, I fear it will come from their sacrifice. I wish you were at my side, my love. Together we could drive the evil from this land, as from others. I hunger for your strength in these moments, my love, and for your touch. _

_Forgive me, Kaelis, for not telling you the truth. I know, my love, that you could see in my eyes the deception into which I was coerced, for I could see the pain in yours, and even now it cuts my very soul. Believe me when I tell you that they gave me no choice. Duty can be a curse as well as a blessing. _

_I curse the fools at the Order for their fierce devotion to the appearance of perfection, and I curse myself for my own delusions when first we met. I thank Helm that I have been able to see the world through another's eyes, for there are colors that exist between black and white that are beautiful beyond description, and shadows that make one appreciate more fully the beauty of the light without extinguishing it. If only they could see, if only they could know you as I know you. _

_I wish that I had made you my wife, as I swore I would. I cannot tell you how many nights I listened at your door, wishing that I held you in my arms in the darkness. Wishing to hear you whisper my name as you feel asleep in my embrace. But I made you a promise. Only as your husband would I hold you thus. I would have married you at once, in any of the countless churches that we passed in our travels, but… there was so much more you deserved, my love. So much more I wanted to give, and could not. _

_I was a fool. Nay, love, a weak fool who promised unending devotion and could not even stand in defiance against the foolish prejudice of narrow minds. Had I the chance, I would march before them now where they stand and speak the truth in a voice that would shake the earth, until none could deny and none would dare to stand in our way. You are my life, Kaelis, my soul, my spirit, and without these, what is any man? In life or death, I am yours, and if it is only in death that I shall see you again, then I welcome it with open arms and a joyful heart. _

_Be well, my love. Laugh. Dance. Sing. Fill the world with the light that you offer. Helm willing, I will hold you in my arms before another moon. If I cannot, know only that I love you, and will be with you always. _

_Your own  
Anomen_

It was difficult to draw a breath through the tightness in her throat, but Kaelis attempted several and let them out slowly, trying desperately to banish the stinging tears behind her eyes. She heard in the hazy corners of her mind the laughter of soldiers, voices raised in song, the gentle tinkle of glass against glass. She ignored them all. She folded the letter again with trembling hands, then tucked it into her armor, letting her fingers linger for a moment on the worn parchment. 

"Thank you, Drizzt." 

Drizzt said nothing. He remained watching her, his arms still folded on his chest. Kaelis glanced at him briefly, then closed her eyes again, passing her fingertips tiredly over her forehead. She whispered to herself, "I have to find him." 

Drizzt pursed his lips thoughtfully for a minute, then sat up in his chair and said simply, "I'm going with you." 

Kaelis' eyes flew open. She looked at him for a long moment, then shook her head. "No. Drizzt, I won't ask you to do that." 

Drizzt leaned over the table to look directly into Kaelis' face. He smiled and raised his eyebrows. "You didn't." He silenced her protests with a wave of his dark hand. 

"Kaelis, there is no one in your company that has any skill in tracking. Not in the sort of terrain you will encounter. Minsc is… capable enough, but his experience is limited. You need my eyes and ears, if nothing else. And my scimitars, as always, are at your disposal." 

"Drizzt…." 

He waved his hand impatiently, then shook his head and continued more quietly. "Let me aid you, and I will be content." He paused for a moment, looking at Kaelis, then sighed at an unspoken thought and said simply, "Gather your things, Kaelis. We ride at dawn." 

Kaelis shook her head. "Drizzt, I don't know what to say." 

His voice held a note of sharpness. "Then say nothing." He dropped her dagger to the table and stood. "If your companions can keep up, they may come with us. If they cannot, then so much the better, for two will be easier to disguise than a band." 

With that, he turned toward the stairs. Kaelis spoke quickly. "Drizzt…." 

Drizzt stopped, paused, looked over his shoulder. 

Kaelis paused, then said simply, "Thank you." 

Drizzt watched Kaelis for a moment longer, then nodded faintly and turned again, quickly vanishing into the crowd of bodies. Kaelis watched him disappear, then looked back at the table. She picked up the letter to the Order, folded it, and put in in her armor next to the other letter. Then she picked up her dagger from the table and slipped it into the sheath at her thigh. _We ride at dawn._

_I'm coming._


	12. Chapter XI

**Author's Note:** I would like to thank all of those who have given me such wonderful encouragement. It really makes all this worthwhile. *smiles*

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**Disclaimer:** I own nothing related to Bioware, Interplay, or the Baldur's Gate series other than copies of the games themselves and an overactive imagination. Thank you. :)

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**Journey to the North  
Chapter XI**

Anomen swore under his breath as he watched the others disappear, fading into the night like figures from a dream. He muttered the words to yet another True Sight spell and looked around, searching the darkness with his deep blue eyes. 

The forest was quiet. Quieter in this part than in any other they had passed through, and Anomen took this as anything but a good sign. 

_Nature can feel evil, and will flee before it like a feather on the wind. _He could almost hear Jaheira's voice in the corners of his mind, and her words did nothing to ease his discomfort. The evil was indeed close, and coming closer as the small scouting party drew nearer the abandoned fortress that served as Melanath's home and headquarters. 

Anomen allowed himself a tight smile as the others popped back into view. All were there, and all were safe. Thus far. 

He took a step forward. Then another, then stopped dead in his tracks, cursing the light crunch of his boots on the snow. The cleric had abandoned his heavy, noisier plate armor in favor of the quiet lightness of leather, but even leather armor had its limitations, and he was still a large man. He tried to make his next few movements as smooth as possible, to avoid any sound that might draw attention from unseen eyes. 

Kaelis had always been good at that. 

Anomen sighed, pushing the thought away. There was no time for that now. 

He thanked the gods again for the trail that he and his soldiers had found through the snow. It was wide and straight, and he could only assume that it was the footsteps of Melanath's minions that had pressed the snow into an icy sheet. This was immeasurably convenient for the small party of knights. Thanks to the few Invisibility potions that remained in the regiment's stores, all members of the scouting party remained unseen, but even the strongest invisibility spell cannot hide snow that is pushed aside by a shrouded traveler. 

The men made their way over the trail in relative silence, the only sounds being their light breathing and the occasional crunch of ice under their feet. No words were spoken, and through the magic of each man's True Sight, each member of the party could see the occasional hand gestures that communicated thoughts across the chilly air. 

It had been a risk, taking so many magic users in this scouting party, but Anomen could think of no other way to get a party to the fortress unseen. Though the Order's mages and clerics were not as physically strong as the knights and paladins, the abilities to see the others, to communicate and to be able to detect any oncoming danger were absolutely essential. There was no other way. 

It was still a danger, however, and the previous scouting party's ill-fated attempt to enter the fortress was constantly in the back of Anomen's mind. Still, the party pressed on through the darkness, and as the light of a nearly full moon broke out from behind dark clouds, the five men could at last see in the distance the crumbling stronghold that was their goal. 

Anomen held up his hand, wordlessly commanding the men to stop. They did so without question and stood for several moments in silence. Anomen stared at the fortress before them, his hand idly playing with the handle of the mace on his belt. Something was wrong. The knights began to look at each other uneasily. Duncan started to take a step toward their young commander when suddenly Anomen whipped his head around to face his companions and hissed an order through tightly clenched teeth. 

_"Drop!_"

The last man hit the ground a fraction of a second before the fireball flew over their heads, missing them by mere inches and crashing into the snow behind them with a savage hiss. Anomen threw his arms over his head and buried his face in the snow, and the others followed suit, preparing themselves for the enormous ring of fire that quickly spread from the trap's target center, melting the snow and scorching the sleeping grass beneath. 

Anomen had ordered that each member of the party be cast with several different protection spells before they left the camp a few hours earlier, and now he thanked Helm for the foresight as he lifted his head to look at the men behind him. 

Each man lay in a soggy pool of sodden undergrowth, but injuries appeared to be minimal to most of the men. Most of them. Erik, a man a few years younger than Anomen and one of the Order's battle mages, had been closest to the trap center and had taken the worst damage. He lay more quietly than the others, still breathing, but only shallowly. 

Anomen crawled carefully across the wet ground, already removing his thick leather gloves as his eyes roamed over Erik's injuries. Minor burns, mostly, but there were a few places over the face and neck where the skin had begun to blister and char. It was there that Anomen placed his hand, letting it hover a few inches over the darkened flesh as he began to chant under his breath. 

"_Vita… Mortis… Calio…._" 

Anomen felt the familiar surge of power begin at his center and spread throughout his body, slowly coming to focus on the hand held above Erik's face. The hand glowed briefly with a blue light. The light seemed to pass through the air into Erik's skin, illuminating his face with an almost silvery radiance. It took only a few seconds for the magic to begin its work, and Anomen watched with wonder as the skin began to smooth itself under his hand. The charring began to disappear, the redness to fade. 

After all this time, the power of healing had never ceased to amaze the young Lord, and he watched with a reverent awe as the burns finally disappeared completely, revealing again the blooming skin of youth. 

Erik stirred slightly, then opened his eyes. He looked around, then up at Anomen, and it seemed that an unspoken conversation passed between them. Eric nodded almost imperceptibly at Anomen's questioning gaze, and Anomen smiled faintly in response. Anomen sat back, pulling on his gloves. Then he stood and turned back to the fortress, murmuring the words to another spell. 

It took a moment, and then the Detect Traps spell went into effect. A line of glowing red boxes appeared on the icy trail, shimmering wickedly. He frowned. The trail was well guarded. Had he expected less? 

He looked at the others and made a motion with one hand, mimicking a trap snapping shut. They all nodded in understanding, and their voices rose in hesitant whispers as they, too, prayed for the ability to detect the invisible dangers ahead. 

Anomen waited until each man had given him the signal that they were finished. Then he nodded and began to move forward more quickly, sidestepping each glowing red shape in the darkness. The traps certainly made moving forward more difficult, but traps were easier to avoid than a horde of dark minions attracted by moving snow and murmurs, and the small band proceeded on in silence. 

The fortress seemed to grow larger as they approached, until they could see the individual torches along the walls, throwing shadows over the ancient stone. Anomen once again held up his gloved hand, signaling the men to halt. The others drew nearer to where he stood before they stopped, and each pair of eyes turned uneasily to the fortress. 

An immense gate of iron covered what appeared to be the only opening into Melanath's headquarters. There were no guards to be seen, but the gate was twice as tall as any man, and held shut with an immense bar that Anomen could see even from the outside. The drawbridge was down in front of the gate, however, and he crossed it without hesitation, stopping only when he could place his hand on the gate. 

Duncan's voice was close to Anomen's ear. "The gate that Janus described?" 

Duncan and the others had crossed carefully behind Anomen, their hands ready on their weapons. No doubt the traps in the trail had set each man on edge, and they looked around with wary eyes. 

Anomen nodded without a word, his eyes roaming over the walls, searching. The walls seemed strong enough, though centuries of neglect had carved eerie patterns in the gray stone, and ivy crawled over the walls in an intricate and strangely beautiful design. The stones, however, were large and sat so closely together that the thinnest assassin's dagger would find it hard to slip between them. 

Looking up, Anomen could see a few sentries milling around at the top edge of the wall, far overhead. He stiffened slightly, and his men with him, but the guards seemed to be concerned mainly with the time-honored activity of seeing how far they could spit over the side of the castle. 

Anomen made a face and looked around. A moat surrounded the fortress and passed under the drawbridge. The murky water had frozen in most places into a layer of filthy-looking ice, but it seemed that the water still flowed beneath. He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. The water had broken through the ice in a few areas, and there were places where the ice had broken up completely, allowing faint clouds of fetid steam to rise into the chilly air. It seemed as though these broken areas appeared at regular intervals along the wall, and Anomen's lips twitched in what could almost be called a smile. 

"There are openings in the wall under that ice." 

Duncan followed Anomen's gaze, then looked at his friend with disbelief. He shook his head quickly. "You can't be thinking…." Even in a whisper, Duncan's voice betrayed his amazement. 

Anomen smiled wryly and looked away from the water into the stunned faces of the soldiers beside him. "A last resort only, Duncan. I am no fonder of swimming than you are, but at least it _appears_ to be only water." 

Duncan looked back at the moat, revulsion in his eyes. "Of _course_ it's water, Anomen. Cooking water, bath water… _sewer_ water…." 

Anomen laughed under his breath as he looked back at the fortress, but he said nothing. Instead he ran his hand along the bars of the gate, looking through them into a darkened courtyard. 

There still appeared to be no guards at this level, but the gate would be impossible to get through. The iron was wrought into a narrow grid, heavy and impenetrable. Anomen could pass his hand through any of the openings, but it grew tight as it neared his shoulder. 

He withdrew his hand and looked up at where the gate was fastened to the stone with enormous iron hinges. The gap between gate and stone was narrow, too narrow for any of his men to squeeze through. With a sigh, he pushed the idea from his mind and looked around, running his hand along the wall beside the gate. 

Duncan motioned to the other men, and they nodded wordlessly before moving to the side of the gate opposite Anomen. Duncan joined Anomen where he was still running his hands over the stone, searching. 

Anomen had been hoping for a foothold, a handhold… anything, but the stone walls were as smooth as they were thick, and the steam from the moat made the ivy slick and limp. There would be no climbing these walls. 

Apparently the other men had come to the same conclusion, because they returned to his side, shaking their heads slightly at the questioning look in Anomen's eyes. Anomen nodded with a frown. He looked at Duncan and raised his eyebrows, then crossed the drawbridge again, walking along the moat until he came to a place where the ice was broken and the steam rose in stinking clouds. 

He crouched down and looked at the moat. The ice had a pale green tinge to it that made Anomen a little uncomfortable, but there was no other way. Still, he made a face and glanced over at Duncan. "You may have been right about the water." 

Duncan just smirked and folded his arms over his chest. Anomen smiled wryly in response and stood, then began pulling off his gloves in preparation. Duncan looked at where Anomen's gloves lay discarded in the snow, then back at Anomen, who had unlaced his leather armor and was in the process of pulling it off. Duncan took a step forward, whispering harshly. 

"Helm, Anomen. I didn't think you were _serious_." 

Anomen sighed and shook his head. "Well, I'm not asking you to come with me, am I?" He looked at Duncan, raising his eyebrows. The older man said nothing, and Anomen dropped his armor next to the gloves. 

"The gate is immense, and unpassable." Anomen bent to unlace his boots. "The walls are unscable." He slipped his foot from the boot and began to unfasten the other. 

"What other options are there?" Anomen asked, looking up at Duncan. The other man watched Anomen for a long moment, then shook his head without a word. Duncan proceeded to pick up the first boot, then the other as Anomen handed it to him and stood. 

"I only want a look. We can discuss the wisdom of my actions some other time." Anomen quickly undid the laces of his thick cotton tunic and pulled it over his head. He tossed it carelessly on top of the armor, shivering slightly as the icy wind bit at his bare skin. 

"Gather the others. If I have not returned in half an hour, return to the camp." 

"Anomen…." 

Anomen's voice was sharp. "Return to the camp, Lieutenant. You will _then_ be in command, and may do as you see fit. Until that time, however, you will _continue_ to take your orders from me, however great a fool I may prove to be." A hint of bitterness crept into his voice. "Helm knows that I have proven it before, and will again, I am certain." 

"But the Order has given me a charge of utmost importance, and it is my… _duty_ to fulfill it." 

Anger flashed briefly in Anomen's eyes and he turned toward the water, crouching again beside it. "If I do not return…" He began, avoiding Duncan's eyes. His voice quickly trailed off into silence, and he reached a hand into the murky water, letting his fingertips skim lightly over the surface. After a moment, he curled his hand into a tight fist and looked up at the castle walls. 

"If I do not return, Duncan, tell Kaelis…. Tell her that I'm sorry. Tell her the truth, and tell her…" 

He looked back at the water, still avoiding Duncan's eyes. "Tell her that I love her." 

Duncan's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "Tell her yourself…. _Sir_." 

Anomen glanced up at Duncan. The older man's gray eyes were filled with frustration and no small amount of concern. Anomen spoke quietly, letting a smile pass briefly over his lips. "Have faith, Duncan. Half an hour." 

Duncan watched Anomen for a long moment, then sighed and shook his head in defeat. "Half an hour." 

"Remain unseen. I _will_ return." 

Duncan nodded without another word, and Anomen lowered himself into the water. His large hands clung to the edge of the ice for just a moment and then, with a final glance at his friend, Anomen slipped completely into the darkness. 

*** 

The water was black and thick beneath the fortress. Anomen's lungs were beginning to burn, and he had yet to see any indication that his journey was nearing its end. He let out a few bubbles of breath, trying to ease the growing strain on his lungs. It helped a little, but not enough. He pressed his lips more tightly together with his teeth, fighting the urge to open his mouth and take in great gulps of what his lungs thought would be air. 

He continued on through the gloom, his eyes desperately searching the foul water for any hint of light. The opening to the moat lay far behind him, covered with a grate that ended a few feet below the surface. It had been simple enough to make his way through the grate and into the labyrinthine sewage tunnels beneath the fortress, but the tunnels sloped down and were soon completely filled with water. 

The light of day had quickly disappeared into the gloom, and that had been some time ago. How long, he could not be certain. There had been turns, and dead ends, precious time wasted. Though he thought he knew the way back to the grate, he had no doubt that if he turned back now, he would drown before reaching his friends. His only choice was to go forward, with only instinct and unspoken prayers to guide him in his search. 

Anomen let out the last of the air in his mouth and thrust himself forward. Certainly he _must_ be near the center of the fortress by now. Then a small point of light appeared in the corner of his vision. He turned toward it eagerly. It was light, faint and faraway, but light meant air. 

He turned toward it eagerly. His lungs felt as though they would burst, and his head throbbed, but the sight of the tiny glow encouraged him, and he renewed his efforts. His strong arms propelled him swiftly through the water, but it seemed like an eternity before the pinpoint of light enlarged and softened into a shimmering circle of radiance. 

He could take no more. He pushed himself through the dark water with a final desperate thrust. His head broke free of the water, then his arms. His chest. He was out! 

Anomen took great gulps of the stale air, closing his eyes as the burning in his chest began to fade into a duller pain. He treaded water for a moment, then made his way slowly forward and looked around, tossing his damp hair from his eyes. 

He was in some sort of underground cavern. The ceiling of the small grotto curved down to the water behind him, but vaulted upward before him, ending in a dome high above his head. The ceiling there was smooth and covered with brick, indicating that he had indeed reached some center part of the fortress. 

In one direction, the water moved through another grated opening, presumably to join other caverns similar to this one. In the other direction, stairs rose from the water's depths to a wide expanse of stone floor. It was for this stairway that Anomen now struck out, his limbs all but trembling with exhaustion. Still, he could breathe more regularly now, and was able to murmur a spell of Minor Curing under his breath, sighing softly as the throbbing in his head disappeared into an ignorable ache. 

Anomen pulled himself onto the stairs and collapsed upon them, closing his eyes and laying his cheek on the worn stone. He was going to have to swim back through the dim tunnel eventually. For now, however, he was in the fortress, apparently alone, and he could rest, albeit briefly. 

He wondered idly if the ingredients for a Potion of Breathing could be found in the dank underground cavern. Then he let out a whispered laugh and pressed his forehead to the steps. They would have done him little good, anyway. He did not have Jaheira's talent with alchemy, and he would have had no idea what to look for or how to use them. 

He sighed and opened his eyes. The cavern seemed to be deserted. He lifted himself to his hands and knees and pulled himself onto the stone floor. He stood slowly and looked around again, only vaguely aware of the foul water that dripped from his hair and trousers onto the cold rock. He began to move forward cautiously, taking care that his feet made no sound as he moved. 

In a few minutes he had reached a narrow hallway, which wound away from the cavern for several feet. A closed door stood at the end of the dim corridor, and a faint light shone from a tiny barred window near the top. Anomen paused for only a moment to look around him, more out of instinct that concern. He moved quietly toward the door, hugging the wall as he inched his way forward. 

He could hear noises from behind the door, and could smell cooking meat and the sweet fragrance of very old wine. It was far more pleasant than the odor of the water that still fell from his beard and hair. His hair had somehow fallen free of its band in the water and now hung in damp waves around his face and bare shoulders. He impatiently pushed his hair out of his eyes and took another step toward the door. At last he reached it and he paused for only a moment before stretching forward to peer through one corner of the small window. 

The room behind the door was not large, but it was well lighted, and he could see stacks of wooden crates piled high against the ancient stone walls of a storeroom. Strings of garlic hung from the ceiling, alternating with shapeless hams and, in one case, an entire boar that had apparently been cured and left to hang with the other provisions. He could recognize the smell of baking bread, and his stomach growled loudly. 

Anomen scowled at the noise, looking around quickly. He had not eaten anything since early morning, too busy with preparations to bother with something as unimportant as food. Now he cursed his impatience. If he were caught now, because of an empty stomach…. He promised himself a huge meal when he made it back to the camp, then strained to look past the gathered supplies toward an arched doorway at the other end of the storeroom. 

He could see little beyond the door, but he could hear muffled voices. The kitchen, certainly. He laid his hand on the door handle and tested it gingerly. It turned with a creaking whisper, and Anomen cringed, looking quickly toward the arch for any sign of discovery. 

Apparently, no one had heard the faint noise above the din of voices and dishes, and Anomen let out a deep breath he had not realized he was holding. He relaxed slightly, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. Then he turned the handle a little more and found that it was unlocked and turned easily under his hand. He opened the door and slipped silently into the storeroom, leaving the door open and his exit clear. 

He moved quickly to the arched doorway that he had seen through the window. He stood close to the wall and slowly moved his head forward to peer into the next room. It was similar to the one in which he stood, piled with crates of food and bins of rotten apples and withered vegetables. 

At the other end of the second storeroom a large wooden door stood partially open, and he saw at a glance that his earlier conclusion had been correct. Several stoop-shouldered figures shuffled around in a reddish light, carrying plates of food and loaves of bread on large wooden paddles. Anomen could feel the heat from the cooking fires even where _he_ stood, and a sudden wave of pity tugged at his heart as he watched the nameless figures shamble around the huge kitchen, not daring to pause even to wipe the sweat that ran into their eyes. 

Anomen suspected that the workers were villagers taken from Kanfael, brought to this foul place to serve in a kitchen as cruel as any dungeon he had ever seen. He narrowed his eyes and clenched the hand that supported him on the wall. When his work was done, every man and woman from the small village would be returned to their homes. He swore it on his honor, on his life. 

He was about to take another step forward when he heard footsteps. Soft, barely noticeable above the din of the kitchen, but they were definitely footsteps, and they were moving slowly in his direction. With a whispered curse, Anomen turned and fled to the relative safety of the outer door, closing it behind him as quickly as he dared. He flinched as the latch caught with a _snick_, then he moved swiftly to the side of the door, pressing himself against the wall. He hid in the shadows and waited. 

*** 

Sara shifted the basket in her arms. Again. It wasn't heavy. Abram made sure that her baskets were never too heavy, but it was big, and she was having a hard time balancing the basket and its nasty contents in her arms. 

She shuffled slowly down the hallway toward the door to the sewers. It wasn't a long walk, and soon she was at the old wooden door. She stood staring at it for a moment, a frown on her young face. She didn't want to put down the basket. It was full of old meat and stale bread and vegetable that were so old they had flies buzzing around them. She bit her lip and tried to balance one side of the basket on the door while reaching for the handle with her now-freed hand. 

After a few tries, the latch clicked and the door opened with a creaking sigh. She allowed herself a little smile and walked through the door. She left it open. She could always close it on the way back to the kitchen, when her basket was empty and her hands freer. 

Suddenly a large hand shot out of the darkness, grabbing her wrist and pulling her forward. Her basket and its contents fell to the floor with a muffled crash. She opened her mouth to scream, but another huge hand quickly covered it. Her eyes darted around frantically. She thought of fighting, but the arm holding her was very large, and the hand was pressed very tightly against her mouth. 

It was a monster. She knew it. Jenna was always telling stories about the monsters that lived in the sewers under the castle. They were covered in garbage and slime from swimming in the sewers all day, and they ate children who stayed too long near the old stone steps. It certainly _smelled_ like it had been swimming in garbage. It was a monster, and it was going to eat her. Tears filled her eyes. 

The monster quickly moved her forward, and she heard the soft _click_ of the door latch behind her. The moster pulled her forward some more, into the shadowy hallway. Then it walked around to face her, one arm still around her shoulders and the other hand over her mouth. She looked up slowly. 

Sara's eyes grew large, and her mouth would have dropped, were it not behind a very large hand. This wasn't a monster. It was a man. A handsome man, almost like a prince from one of Abram's stories, although he _did_ smell like garbage. He was tall, as tall as any man that she had ever seen, and his shoulders were broad and bare. He wore only a pair of leather trousers that dripped with foul water, and the same water fell from his long brown hair and the beard on his chin. 

She looked with amazement toward the murky water just visible at the edge of the stone floor. The stranger nodded slightly and smiled, a twinkle in his eyes. They were as blue as sapphires, and sparkled in the tiny amount of light that made it into the sewer cavern. After a minute, the huge arm slipped from around her shoulders and the stranger put a finger to his lips, smiling again. Sara smiled back timidly, raising a tiny hand to try and straighten the hair that had fallen into her eyes. 

He looked through the doorway, as if listening, then looked at Sara with a questioning glance and motioned to the cavern behind him. Sara nodded quickly, and he smiled again. He let his hand slip from her mouth, then took her hand in his and led her down the hallway into the large grotto. As they exited the hallway, he moved out of sight of the doorway into a dark corner and turned to face the girl, crouching down so that he could look into her eyes. 

"What is your name?" His voice was friendly and deep, and his smile showed a row of even white teeth in his deeply tanned face. She thought that he was the most beautiful creature that she had ever seen, _exactly_ like one of the princes out of Abram's fairy stories. 

"Sara, Sir." She dropped a little awkward curtsy, then swallowed hard. "Who… Are… are you a prince? But how did you…?" 

The stranger's smile widened, and Sara felt a blush creeping over her cheeks. He shook his head and raised a large hand to tuck a stray curl behind Sara's tiny ear. "No, my lady. Not a prince. A Lord, and a knight, and a stranger here." 

He sighed and spoke softly. "I thought I would take a swim, my Lady, but I fear that I have lost my way. I find myself in this place and was so eager for a friendly voice that I am afraid that I have taken you from your work. Forgive me." 

Sara thought she would have granted him anything, but she just nodded dumbly and continued staring. No one had ever called her "my Lady" before. 

The stranger continued gently, "My name is Anomen, fair Lady, and I am a stranger to these lands. I wonder if you might be able to tell me where I am?" 

Sara's heart sank. She shook her head, looking at Lord Anomen and said quietly, "I'm s..sorry, Sir, but I don't… actually know… where you are." 

Anomen's eyes widened in surprise, and Sara continued hastily, her words tumbling over each other in her eagerness, "I was brought here a few months ago to work in the kitchens. I used to live in Kanfael. Me 'n' Jenna 'n' my sister Kari." 

"You were brought here?" Anomen reached forward and squeezed her hand gently, and Sara blushed again. 

"Yes, Sir. About the time of the summer festival. The trolls came, an'…." 

"Trolls? Are you sure?" Anomen's smile remained friendly, but she could see something dark behind his eyes. 

She curtsied again and nodded. "Yes, your majesty… I mean…. Your highness… I…." Her eyes widened in horror, and she felt her ears turn red. "Oh, I'm sorry…." 

Anomen just laughed and winked one deep blue eye. "Please, my Lady… all of my friends call me Anomen. I must insist that you do the same." 

Sara's mouth spread wide in a silly grin. "Okay." 

"Go on, Sara…." 

Sara spent the next several minutes eagerly explaining the particulars of her capture. Her family, she said, had been taken in the night by the trolls and brought to this place, along with several other families. She didn't know how many. Some had been taken away to the dungeons, she thought, and others just… disappeared, but she and her sisters were some of the lucky ones that were sent to the kitchens to work. 

It was hard work, and hot, but she had heard horrible stories about what had happened to the others, and she was glad to be there. Anomen kindly encouraged her to skip the scary stories and listened intently to every word she spoke, only interrupting to clarify a point or flash an encouraging smile. 

After several minutes, she stood looking at him in silence, her story told. He watched her for a long moment with sad eyes, and then said simply, 

"Sara, do you want to go home?" 

Sara felt the tears leap to her eyes. Did she want to go home? She choked out between sobs, "Oh, yes, Sir. We all do…." 

Anomen pulled the small girl into his arms, laying his cheek on her golden hair as he tried to soothe her. She lay her head on his shoulder and he rocked back and forth as though she were a small child waking from a nightmare. Maybe she was. His voice was so quiet. 

"Shhh…." 

Sara threw her arms around Anomen's neck and cried into his shoulder for a long time. At last Anomen gently pulled her away so that he could look into her face. She sniffled and wiped at her nose with her sleeve. When she looked up again, he was looking into her eyes, smiling. 

"Listen to me, Sara… This is very important." 

She nodded silently, wiping the tears from her swollen eyes. 

He went on. "I am not here because I lost my way. I am here on a very important mission." He hesitated. "Is there anyone in the kitchen that you trust? Anyone that I can talk to? It _must_ be done in secret. That is _very_ important, Sara…." 

Sara cut him off in her eagerness. "Abram!" Her eyes lit up and she grinned. "He's the most wonderful man I know…. Well, next to you, I think, but he's _awfully_ nice and he can help! He's always helping me! I can go and get him." She fairly jumped in her excitement. 

Anomen laughed quietly and winked one blue eye. "Perfect, Sara. Run and fetch him here. But remember…." He opened his eyes wide and placed a finger over his lips to make sure she knew it was a secret. 

Sara nodded, grinning, then turned and ran toward the hallway, her golden curls flying behind her. 

"Abram!" She flew into the kitchen and looked around. He had to be here. 

"Abram!" She darted through the shuffling villagers, searching for the familiar face of her friend. At last she saw him, bent over to inspect the fire in one of the huge ovens. The sweat was rolling down his face in huge drops, and his cheeks were red with the heat, but he smiled when he saw Sara. 

"There you are, lass. I had begun to worry about you." 

Sara dashed forward and grabbed Abram's hand. "You've got to come with me! Quick!" 

Abram stood with a confused expression. "Come with you? Come where, child?" 

Sara pulled on his hand. "I… dropped my basket into the sewer, and…." 

Abram sighed and shook his head. "Sara, love… That's the third one this month." 

Sara groaned and kept pulling on Abram's hand. "I know, but… You've got to come! You've just _got_ to!" 

Abram sighed again and ran his free hand through his graying hair. "All right, Sara, all right." He started to follow her through the maze of workers. Sara kept tight hold of his hand all the way through the first storeroom, and the second, and the hallway, until they made it out into the big sewer cavern and Lord Anomen. 

She looked around. He had disappeared. She looked around more frantically, letting go of Abram's hand and stepping forward. He had to be here. He had to be. 

Abram took a few steps into the cavern and looked around, watching Sara with bewildered eyes. He took a few steps to where her basket lay on the ground, then picked it up and turned toward Sara, his mouth open to question her. 

But the question never came. Anomen stepped out of the shadows close to where Sara had been standing. Sara let out a tiny shriek of joy and ran to Anomen's side, taking his huge hand in hers and pulling. He laughed softly and let himself be guided forward. 

"Abram, look! His name's Anomen, and he's a knight, and…." 

Abram dropped the basket back to the floor. He was watching Anomen with narrowed eyes. At last he stepped forward, shaking his head in disbelief. "Who…?" 

Anomen bowed deeply, keeping Sara's hand tightly in his. When he straightened, he squared his broad shoulders and looked at Abram with a very serious expression. 

"Sir, I am Lord Anomen Delryn of Athkatla, Warrior-Priest of Helm and a Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart. I am here to free you." 

*** 

Duncan looked at the moon as it moved through the sky. Anomen's half-hour had passed nearly an hour ago, but Duncan had not been able to bring himself to give the order to leave, or even move from the water into which his friend had disappeared. The others stood behind him in the shadow of the great wall, idly fingering the empty bottles that had formerly held the last of their Invisibility potions within. 

Duncan finally gave a weary sigh and bowed his head, closing his eyes. It was time to go. He bowed his head in a silent prayer for his commander and his friend. 

After several minutes he opened his eyes and said in a tired whisper, "Let's go." 

The party turned away from the grate and started to move away when Duncan looked over his shoulder for a final glance at Anomen's resting place. Suddenly he uttered a whispered curse and grabbed the shoulder of the nearest man. "Wait!" 

There were bubbles rising from the water in front of the grate. They grew larger, sending spreading circles over the water, until at last the surface of the water broke, and Anomen rose in a spray of filthy water, gasping for breath. 

Duncan nearly shouted in his joy, and only checked himself just in time. Instead he rushed to the side of the moat and extending a hand to the panting cleric. 

Anomen looked up at Duncan and clenched the offered forearm without hesitation, saying nothing as he was pulled out of the filthy water by the combined efforts of all four men on the shore. 

Erik, the single battle mage of the party, uttered a spell and Anomen felt himself drift again into invisibility. Anomen nodded his thanks, then took his thick cotton tunic from Duncan with a grateful smile and slipped it quickly over his head. He managed to whisper through chattering teeth, "I thought that I had I ordered you to return to the camp." 

Duncan crossed his arms over his chest and watched Anomen with slightly narrowed eyes. "Put me before the Council, then." 

Anomen laughed quietly, shaking his head as he wrapped a warm woolen cloak around his shoulders. "Consider yourself lucky that I find myself wet, cold, and entirely too exhausted, or I might do just that. You had your orders, Lieutenant." Anomen looked at his friend, his smile softening slightly. "Though I am _awfully_ glad to see you." 

Duncan nodded slightly. "And I, you." Duncan unwrapped his own cloak from his shoulders and added it to the one already around Anomen. "I thought you had returned to Helm, Anomen. I thank the Watcher that you found your way back." 

Anomen's smile gave way to a grave expression. "As do I, Duncan." 

Anomen took a deep breath and shivered again, then bent to take his boots from where they lay in the snow. Duncan made a motion to one of the other men, and he picked up Anomen's armor and gloves, holding them in readiness. 

Anomen spoke quietly. "I have found a way into the fortress. Perhaps for only a few men, but it may be enough to give us the advantage that we have been looking for." 

Duncan nodded and crouched down beside his friend, pushing Anomen's frozen fingers away from the bootlaces. Duncan began to tie them, glancing up quickly at his friend. "There will be time enough to discuss that later, after a good meal next to a _very_ large fire." 

Anomen nodded tiredly and reached for his gloves, but said nothing. Duncan finished tying Anomen's boots and stood, pulling Anomen to his feet. Duncan made a wry face and raised one eyebrow. "But first," he laughed, "a bath. You smell terrible." 

The grin returned to Anomen's face, and he lifted once arm, delicately sniffing it. "I won't argue with that, Duncan. A bath would be welcome." He dropped his arm and shrugged the cloaks more firmly onto his shoulders. 

"A very _long_ bath." 


	13. Chapter XII

**Author's Note: **Well, here it is! :)

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**Disclaimer:** I own nothing related to Bioware, Interplay, or the Baldur's Gate series other than copies of the games themselves and an overactive imagination. Thank you. :)

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**Journey to the North  
Chapter XII**

Kaelis pulled her horse to a stop, searching the horizon with emerald eyes. A thick white blanket of snow lay everywhere, unbroken by roads or trails or even the tracks of some adventurous animal. There was no sign of civilization, no indication that the Order camp was anywhere nearby, but she had never doubted Drizzt's abilities, and was not about to do so now. 

Her horse snorted impatiently and tossed its head, but she ignored the tantrum and kept her eyes on the distance. Soon she heard the muffled crunch of another horse's hooves behind her, and she turned to see Drizzt pulling his horse to a stop beside hers. 

He was watching the horizon as well, his pale eyes narrowed slightly in concentration. His fingers played idly at the reins, but there was a readiness in the way he sat in the saddle, a quiet intensity in the way he turned his head to survey their surroundings. 

Kaelis watched him for several minutes in silence. He was as still as stone, but his eyes continued to move over the landscape, filled with a familiar fire that spoke of his determination. Kaelis let her eyes roam slowly over his face. He was beautiful in the way of the elves, but there was a ruggedness to Drizzt that set him apart. He had the high cheekbones of the Drow, the skin like ebony, the silver brows over unusually pale violet eyes. His face was hairless in the elven fashion, but his bare chin was stronger than most elves' that she had seen, and he wore his hair loose, instead of in the intricate braids so common among the elven people. His shoulders were broad for an elf, speaking of years of difficult training, but they were more slender than Anomen's, and Drizzt stood only a few inches taller than Kaelis, where Anomen towered nearly a foot over her…. 

Drizzt's deep voice interrupted her thoughts. "You are watching me." 

There was a hint of a smile on his features, though he did not turn his eyes toward her. Kaelis felt a faint blush warm her cheeks, but she said nothing in reply, and quickly turned her gaze back to the horizon. 

At this, Drizzt laughed softly and turned in his seat to look at Kaelis, resting his elbow casually on the horn of his saddle. "You do not deny it, then." 

Kaelis shrugged lightly, but said nothing. 

Drizzt laughed again, more loudly this time, and reached over to take hold of Kaelis' horse's bridle. Slowly he drew her horse's head closer to that of his own mount, until Kaelis' shoulder nearly brushed his own. She looked at him, a faint frown creasing her forehead. Drizzt stopped laughing, but the smile remained in his eyes. 

"Why, Kaelis?" 

She paused for a moment, then turned her eyes resolutely to the horizon. "You know I've always found your talent as a ranger fascinating. I almost considered becoming one myself, you know." 

"Did you, now?" Drizzt laughed. "Quite a ranger you would have made, too." 

He pretended to consider. "It is not too late to learn, Kaelis. I will teach you myself, if you wish. We could ride to Icewind Dale in a fortnight, and I will teach you everything that I know." 

His slight emphasis on the word _everything_ made Kaelis look at him quickly. While Drizzt's face remained passive, a carefully benign smile on his lips, Kaelis could see the fire burning behind his eyes, and she turned away again, sighing softly in frustration. He laughed quietly and followed her gaze. 

"Why were you watching me?" 

"What would you like me to say, Drizzt?" 

"It's a simple enough question." 

Kaelis laughed now, softly shaking her head. After a moment, she turned toward her companion. "Is it?" Their eyes remained locked for a moment. Then she moved away Drizzt's hand and began to walk her horse forward at a quicker pace than was probably necessary. 

Drizzt watched her for a long moment, then followed, once again pulling his horse alongside hers. He reached over and took her reins again, pulling her horse to a stop. Kaelis turned to face him, frowning slightly. He was watching her with an intensity that was almost tangible. 

"It could be." His voice was only slightly above a whisper, but it cut through the air like a knife. "Why, Kaelis?" 

"Drizzt, let go of the reins." 

He smiled faintly and pulled her horse still closer. "Let go of the reins? Why? Are you afraid?" 

Kaelis laughed quickly, attempting to hide her uneasiness at his closeness. She could feel the warmth of his body, could smell the scent of herbs and cinnamon on his breath. The wind stirred her hair, and his, tangling them together in a cloud of silver and fire. 

"Afraid of you?" 

Drizzt nodded faintly, but said nothing. Kaelis took a deep breath and let it out slowly, moving back slightly in her saddle. "Should I be?" 

Drizzt shook his head slowly, his eyes still locked with hers. "No, Kaelis. Not you." 

He pulled her horse closer again, drawing her face close to his. "I doubt you fear anyone anymore, least of all me." His voice dropped to a whisper, and his eyes fell to her lips. "You know I could never hurt you, Kaelis." 

She could not pull her eyes away as Drizzt's face slowly came closer, and at last she let them fall closed. She felt the gentle pressure, the warmth of his lips on hers. She did not pull away immediately. After a moment, Drizzt leaned in with a sigh, lifting a hand and entangling his fingers in her long cinnamon curls. He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss and slipping his other arm around her waist. Kaelis breathed in the fragrance of wind and rain, so different from the familiar earthy fragrance of Anomen's embrace. 

_Anomen…._

She could almost feel his arms around her, feel the play of his hair on her cheek. She felt the gentle roughness of his beard on her skin, feel the urgent tangle of his hand in her hair. He murmured her name. Softly, with a breathlessness to his voice that tightened her chest and made it difficult to breathe. She could feel his heart beating in his broad chest, matching the rhythm of hers. 

She sighed his name softly, sliding her hands over his chest and around his shoulders. He hesitated, then pulled her closer, crushing her lips with his. There was something desperate in his kiss, and as he broke away, he breathed her name again, his low voice touched with a sorrow that she hadn't expected and couldn't explain. She yearned to return her lips to his, but he pulled away again, speaking more clearly. 

"Kaelis…." 

She opened her eyes at the sound of her name. It took her a moment to realize that it had not been Anomen's voice that had uttered the words. Slowly the vision of her love faded into the sunshine like a pleasant dream in morning, and she found herself looking into Drizzt's amethyst eyes. 

Her mouth opened slowly at the realization of what had just happened, and she quickly pulled her arms from around Drizzt's shoulders, a burning heat touching her cheeks. He, in turn, slipped his arms slowly from around Kaelis' waist, letting a hand linger on her armor for just a moment before reluctantly pulling it away. 

"Kaelis, I…." 

Kaelis took a deep breath that trembled more than she had hoped. She shook her head, a growing frustration gnawing at her stomach. "Drizzt, you… must never do that again…. I…." 

"Kaelis…." 

She shook her head again and looked away, gripping the horn of her saddle with a ferocity that drained the color from her knuckles. "Promise me, Drizzt. As my friend." 

He watched her for a long moment, his jaw working silently. Then he, too, looked toward the horizon, his eyes dark. His voice held a bitter edge. 

"I will never do that again." He paused, then looked at Kaelis, his voice softening only slightly. "I promise… As you _friend_." 

She nodded faintly, but did not look at him. Her deep green eyes searched the horizon, not knowing quite what they were looking for and not entirely caring as long as they did not meet his. 

After a moment Drizzt spoke again. "Forgive me, Kaelis. I… should not have done that. I knew that, but I could not… It will not happen again, I swear to you. Please, Kaelis. Forgive me." 

Kaelis looked at her friend in spite of herself. He was watching her with a carefully guarded expression, and said nothing more. After a moment, she nodded faintly and looked again toward the horizon, speaking quietly. 

"I wish that I could make you understand." She smiled, the barest hint of a laugh in her words as she continued. "You are an… amazing man, and a year ago I would have fallen at your feet. But now…." 

She looked down at her hands, still smiling. "I need Anomen. And he needs me. We are so… _alike_. Our dreams, our hopes… 

"Your foul tempers." 

Kaelis grinned, but said nothing. After a moment the grin faded into a softer smile,, and she went on. "We are both struggling to understand ourselves, and where we belong in the world. … 

Drizzt muttered under his breath, "I can tell you where he belongs…." 

Kaelis laughed quietly and looked up, cutting him off. "He belongs with me, Drizzt. Or I belong with him. It really doesn't matter, does it?" 

Drizzt glanced at her quickly, then away. Kaelis went on, a serious tone to her voice. "Alone, we've struggled so much. Against others, against ourselves. Now we… still struggle against the others, I suppose, but when he's there… I don't know." 

She looked toward the horizon again. "The darkness seems less frightening, and the shadows fly away. I don't feel so alone. I feel… safe. I _am_ where I belong, and so is he." 

Drizzt remained silent for a long moment. Then he shook his head, his eyes still intent on the horizon. "No." Kaelis looked at him quickly, but he went on, cutting off any protest. "Where you belong is perhaps half a day's ride to the east. His camp is there. _He_ is there." 

Drizzt looked at Kaelis and gave her a wry smile. "And then you can sigh his name in _his_ arms, and leave mine to their emptiness." 

Kaelis opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say a thing, Drizzt had dug his heels into his horse's sides and was flying over the snow to the northeast. After a moment Kaelis did the same, and was soon at his heels. 

*** 

Anomen sunk lower into the bath, sighing with contentment. The steam rose around him in billowing clouds, much more pleasant than those he had encountered earlier. He took a deep breath, grateful for fire and water and all of the wonderful things that had come together to allow him this one moment of perfect peace. 

He had already washed the foul water of the fortress' sewer from his limbs, and now he lay lazily soaking, slipping in and out of a pleasant doze. He had actually planned on bathing quickly and gathering a few of the officers together so that he could relate what he found in the great cavern beneath the fortress. But Duncan and the others had stubbornly insisted that he rest and regain what he could of his body temperature, as the sodden cleric had been nearly frozen by the time they reached camp. 

Anomen took a deep breath and let himself slip completely under the water. He stayed there for some time, then threw himself into a sitting position, tossing the water from his hair with a boyish shake of his head. He passed his large hands over his face, wiping the water from his eyes, then let out a deeply satisfied breath and looked around. The kitchen tent had been deserted for his bath, but he still glanced toward the door a little self-consciously as he stood. 

He grabbed a nearby drying cloth and stepped out of the tub, shivering slightly as a trickle of cold air slipped through the cracks in the doorway. He dried one bronzed arm, then the other, then scrubbed the quickly dampening cloth over his chest and shoulders. He wrapped the cloth around his waist, then took another and began to vigorously rub the water from his hair and face. As he did so, his thoughts wandered back to his encounter under the fortress. 

He had been correct about Abram. Abram Longfist was a warrior, retired some fifteen years from the Order of the Flaming Fist in Baldur's Gate. He had traveled to the small village of Kanfael some ten years ago to escape the pain of his wife's death, and had been welcomed warmly by all of the citizens of the small hamlet. The children were especially fond of him, Anomen had discovered from Sara, and they had adopted him as honorary grandfather, saint, and protector. 

Anomen had not asked about Abram's capture, but he sensed that Abram had allowed himself to be taken with the others, seeking to protect them in whatever way he could. There was a shrewdness to the man's eyes, a quiet inner strength, and Anomen silently thanked Helm that he had found such an ally. 

His drying complete, Anomen slipped a warm cotton tunic over his head and reached for a pair of thick leather pants. He pulled them on, then dropped rather unceremoniously onto a chair and stretched his tired muscles. He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly and bent to pick up a pair of worn leather boots. 

He turned them over in his hands, watching a thin film of shimmering magic swirl over the surface. The Boots of Speed had been a gift from Kaelis only a few weeks after he had first approached her in the Copper Coronet. He wore them always, their value as sentimental as it was strategic. He pulled one boot on, then the other, smiling as he felt a surge of energy all throughout his body. 

There was a faint knock outside the tent, and Anomen looked up to see Duncan's head in the doorway. Anomen raised an eyebrow, reaching over to take his belt from the floor. He tried to keep his voice stern, but he was feeling too relaxed, and it came out in a laughing growl. "Did your parents never teach you to knock, Duncan? I could have been as bare as the day I was born." 

Duncan rolled his eyes and stepped into the tent, grabbing a nearby towel and throwing it at Anomen's head. "It wouldn't have been anything I hadn't seen before, you idiot." 

Anomen laughed and pulled the towel from his face. "You _do_ realize that your actions _could_ be considered insubordination, Lieutenant…." 

"They could." Duncan said distractedly. He pulled a stool from under a table and dropped it in front of Anomen, then sat down, leaning his elbows on his knees. Anomen was fastening the clasp to his cloak and looked up curiously at Duncan's thoughtful expression. 

"What's happened?" 

Duncan looked up, then ran a hand over his face and down over his beard. "The trackers tell me that there are riders coming." 

Anomen's fingers froze on the clasp. "Riders?" 

Duncan nodded, looking up. "Two of them. From the southwest, roughly the direction that Janus took." 

"Is it Janus?" 

Duncan shook his head, sitting up. "Edmar says it isn't. The trakcers haven't decided _who_ it is yet, but it's no one of ours." 

Anomen nodded thoughtfully, then stood up and shook the last few drops of water from his hair. "All right. We'll have the men at the ready, but we'll take no action until we have more information." 

"Yes, Sir." 

Anomen walked toward the door and out into the sunshine. It was warm, but he was grateful for the cloak, as the wind had begun to pick up. Duncan followed, stopping now and then to speak to some of the men in a low voice. 

Anomen quickly reached the southwest edge of the camp, where a group of the Order's trackers stood discussing something in low voices. Occasionally one of the men would point to the southwest, and all of them were watching the horizon with wary eyes. 

As Anomen approached, several of the men bowed, but Anomen waved off the salute with an impatient gesture and said simply, "What do you have for me?" 

Edmar stepped forward. An older man with silver hair and piercing gray eyes, Edmar had long ago been made the unofficial spokesman of the little group, and it was Edmar that said, "Two riders, Sir. From the southwest, and coming in at a good speed. None of ours, my Lord, or I'm a blind man." 

Anomen's looked to the southwest and raised a hand to shade his eyes, straining to see over the dazzling light of the sun on snow. He could see make out nothing but snow and a few ragged trees in the distance. "You are quite certain?" 

Edmar nodded gravely. "I am, Sir." 

Anomen continued to watch the horizon. After several minutes, he thought he could see in the distance two small points of darkness that were very slowly growing larger. Two riders, as Edmar had said. Anomen continued to watch for several minutes, and the two riders were _definitely_ coming closer, on a path directly to the gate of the camp. 

He spoke in a low voice to a soldier near his side. "Andren, gather a small contingent of sword men behind the first row of tents. Wait there until the signal is given. Adfel…." Another knight approached from somewhere behind Duncan and bowed slightly. 

"Take a few archers and sling men and stand on the northern side of camp. Tell them to be ready, but make no move until I give the order. 

"Yes, Sir." The voices spoke in unison and the two men hurried away, barking orders to several nearby soldiers. 

Anomen motioned to Duncan, who was at his side in an instant. "What do you think, Duncan?" 

Duncan shook his head slowly. "I cannot say, Anomen." Duncan's gray eyes were also focused on the horizon. Anomen watched as the dark shapes of the riders came closer and became clearer. There were two of them, as the trackers had said, riding on large horses that flew over the snow at an almost reckless speed. 

One of the two riders was a figure of pure darkness, a shadow upon a horse the color of night. The other… There was something more familiar about the other. Perhaps the way that they sat forward in the saddle, their head bent low over the animal's neck. Or the way that the sun coaxed fire from auburn curls that streamed out behind… her_… _ in a cascade of flame…. 

Anomen took a step forward, his deep blue eyes wide with disbelief. His breath came quickly, escaping from his open mouth in silver clouds. He knew that rider. He knew her very well. 

He tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat. He took another step forward, then shook his head, never taking his eyes from the approaching riders. He almost did not dare to speak, for fear that the figures would vanish and he would find himself waking in his tent. At last he could bear it no longer. 

"Do you see her, Duncan, or do I dream?" 

Duncan nodded his head slowly, a smile creeping over his lips. "I see her, Anomen." 

Anomen nodded distractedly, taking another step toward the horses that were now only a few hundred feet from the edge of the camp. At this distance, he could see her slender figure clearly. The brilliant hair, the fair skin, the same worn leather armor and twin swords that she had worn during their first adventure together. It _was_ her. 

Her horse stopped, and she leapt from the saddle, tossing her hair from her face. He could almost make out her eyes now. She looked around for a moment, as if searching the faces, and then those beautiful eyes met his. Met his, and held them. Anomen stood motionless for only a moment, then started walking quickly toward the horses. 

Kaelis stood before him in the snow. 

*** 

Kaelis dismounted quickly, tossing her hair impatiently from her eyes. She spoke only a word to the horse, then turned toward the camp and took a single step forward, already searching the faces. 

Drizzt stayed on his horse, several feet behind her. He said nothing, and neither did she. Her emerald eyes were moving quickly over each face, searching for the one that had brought her so far. Her gaze was drawn to one figure, a man that appeared to be walking toward her, his pace increasing with each step. He was tall and dark, with long brown hair that lifted lazily on the growing wind. His shoulders were broad, his carriage familiar. He wore no armor, but she knew. 

She took a trembling breath and a few steps forward, until she could see his eyes. 

She began to run. 

*** 

Anomen stumbled through the snow, falling to his knees and getting up again, unclasping his cloak and throwing it away when it caught under his feet. _She is here…._ The thought echoed in his mind, repeating endlessly until he heard the words falling from his lips. 

She was running over the snow, and as she drew nearer, Anomen opened his arms, hungry for the slender form that suddenly threw itself into them. The force of the meeting threw Anomen back into the snow, and Kaelis with him. Anomen clumsily scrambled to his knees, Kaelis more gracefully to hers, and the two lovers looked at each other for a long moment, neither daring to speak for fear that the dream would fade. 

At last Kaelis flung her arms around Anomen and buried her face in his neck, her shoulders shaking silently as she held him close. Anomen tightened his arms around her, pulling her even closer as he buried his face in her hair. It smelled of jasmine. For as long as he could remember… in the Beholder's Lair, the dusty temple of Amaunator, the sewers under Athkatla… it had always smelled of jasmine. 

"Kaelis…." 

He heard his voice repeating her name over and over into her hair, unable to rise above a whisper. His heart felt as though it would burst, and he felt tears falling from his eyes. He kissed her hair, then pulled back and kissed her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks. She raised her eyes to his, and only the briefest of moments passed before he found her lips. 

Kaelis responded eagerly, clinging to him fiercely and sighing into the kiss. Her fervor stole his breath and set his heart to racing. He groaned softly and deepened the embrace, helpless against the feeling of her arms around his shoulders and her lips moving against his. At last he had to force himself to pull away. His breath was heavy, as was hers, but he managed to whisper, "You are… How did you…?" 

Kaelis laughed softly through her tears, reaching up to brush a damp strand of hair from his eyes. "I'm sorry, have I come a bad time?" She tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled his mouth to hers again. He laughed against her lips, then lost himself in them, reaching up to tangle his own fingers in her fiery curls. 

At last Kaelis pulled away to look up into his eyes. Her voice was uncharacteristically hesitant. "No one had heard from you for weeks, and I… I had to find you." 

Anomen shook his head softly. "But how…?" 

As his voice trailed off, Kaelis looked over her shoulder, and Anomen followed her gaze. On a horse a few feet away sat a dark figure Anomen recognized immediately as Drizzt Do'Urden. His eyes were on Anomen, not Kaelis, and his dark lips were set into a thin line. 

Kaelis looked back at Anomen, but said nothing. Anomen tightened his fingers in her hair, but took a deep breath and said, "Thank you. I… You cannot know how I…." 

Drizzt's voice was low, with a harsh edge. "I know more than you think, Delryn. Your woman…." Anomen thought he could hear a bite in the words, but Drizzt went on without a pause. "Your woman has done much to find you. Thank that Helm of yours that you have found such a woman. Or that she has found you." 

Anomen could not force any severity into his voice. He simply pulled Kaelis closer and said, "I do." And then, "Every day." 

Drizzt nodded slowly. "Take care of her, then. Or you shall answer to my blades, cleric." 

Anomen could say nothing. Kaelis' arms had tightened around his neck, and she had raised her head. She looked quickly at Drizzt, then at Anomen. She said nothing, but the shining eyes spoke volumes to Anomen's racing heart, and he was soon kissing her again. How long, he could not say. At last Kaelis smiled softly and pulled away, then brushed another strand of hair from Anomen's eyes. She turned to say something to Drizzt, but no sound left her lips and she looked around quickly. 

Anomen did the same. The drow had disappeared. Silently, as he always did, the only sign of his departure a trail of broken snow that turned to the northwest and disappeared into the distance. He was returning to Icewind Dale. 

Kaelis and Anomen would never see him again. 

Anomen closed his eyes with a sigh and laid his cheek on Kaelis' hair. He quickly forgot about Drizzt, about the Order and the threat that they faced, about the snow and his aching limbs, about the world around them and the armored men that began to approach from the camp. He listened to her breath, felt her soft fingers on his neck, felt her heartbeat against his chest. He smiled. 

Kaelis was in his arms, and only that mattered. 


	14. Chapter XIII

**Author's Note: ** Anyone for mush? ^_^

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing related to Bioware, Interplay, or the Baldur's Gate series other than copies of the games themselves and an overactive imagination. Thank you. ^_^

* * *

**Journey to the North  
Chapter XIII **

****

Kaelis stretched languidly under the thick woolen blanket, then relaxed with a deep sigh of utter contentment. She could see the sun shining red through her closed eyelids. It was morning. 

She smiled, slipping her arms out from under the blanket to stretch them high over her head, then let them fall back to the pillow. Yes, it was morning, and she was going to eventually have to open her eyes, but for the moment, she was warm and comfortable, and happier than she had been in months. 

She could hear a few voices outside. For the most part, the men spoke in low murmurs, but occasionally a laugh would dance through the air, or a song would grow and fade as the singer moved through the camp. It was comforting enough, but it was also keeping her from going back to sleep, and at last Kaelis opened her eyes with a breathless groan of defeat. 

She rolled over onto her side, snuggling down as far as she could into the thin pillow. She was in Anomen's hut, she knew. She vaguely remembered being carried into the tent well after midnight, so exhausted after her frantic ride that she could barely keep her eyes open. She had all but fallen asleep with her head on Anomen's shoulder, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist. It had felt so… perfect. 

They were sitting in front of the fire with some of his men, laughing and telling stories, many of which included Anomen and herself and the more interesting of the battles that they had faced together. Yes, she knew where she was because she could remember being picked up and carried in his strong arms, but more than that, she could smell Anomen's familiar fragrance on the blankets pulled up around her chin, in everything around her. 

She could see his characteristic neatness in the weapons standing against the wall in the corner, in the shining plate mail that leaned against the large desk in the corner. Only this one piece of furniture was in disarray, papers piled high and scattered over one another, maps and communiqués floundering in a sea of reports and memorandums. She smiled to herself sadly, imagining the stresses and worries that had forced her beloved, orderly Anomen into a reluctant life of disarray. 

She heard a shuddering sigh from one corner of the small shelter, and quickly turned her eyes toward the sound. She smiled slowly at what she saw. 

Anomen sat in the corner on a narrow stool, his head wearily leaning against the wall and a thin blanket pulled up to his chin. His untidy hair was falling into his closed eyes and over the blanket, and his mouth was open slightly in sleep. She could see the faint puffs of his breath shining like moonlit clouds in the chilly morning air. 

The blanket shivered occasionally, as did the body under it. Kaelis smiled and shook her head softly, raising herself up on one elbow. He murmured something in his sleep, then shifted slightly and turned his head into what Kaelis sincerely hoped was a more comfortable position. She watched for a moment more, then pushed back the blankets with one hand and slipped her feet to the floor. She pulled one of the warm woolen blankets off of the bed, then padded quietly across the icy floor toward her trembling lover. 

The hut was small enough that it took her only a few steps to reach Anomen's makeshift sleeping arrangement. She dropped silently to her knees in front of him and lifted the heavy blanket, gently draping it over the knight's massive frame. He shifted again, whispering something that sounded suspiciously like her name, but his eyes remained closed, and soon his breathing resumed its steady rhythm. 

Kaelis sat back on her heels, smiling, content simply to watch the regular rise and fall of Anomen's chest as he slept. He looked so different from the last time that she had seen him. His hair was quite a bit longer, and his beard, of which he had always been so proud, lay untrimmed and uncombed upon his strong jaw. There were a few new lines around his eyes, and there were dark circles under them that spoke of sleepless nights. 

The dimples, however, were still there, faint shadows upon his cheeks that spoke of a familiar smile, and his dark lashes left curly shadows upon his high cheekbones. Kaelis sighed softly without quite realizing it, almost wishing that Anomen would wake so that she could see the endless blue of his eyes and feel the warmth of his smile. 

She whispered his name softly, but his eyes remained closed. She reached up to brush a lock of hair from his eyes, but there was still no response. After a moment, Kaelis bit the inside of her lip thoughtfully, then rose to her knees and gently brushed her lips against his. 

Anomen started under her touch, and his eyes flew open. He looked around for a moment in sleepy bewilderment, but when he found Kaelis' eyes, he smiled drowsily and relaxed, letting his head fall back against the wall. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse with sleep, but there was laughter in his words and no doubt in his closed eyes. 

"So now you throw yourself at my feet?" He chuckled softly, and Kaelis' heart tightened pleasantly at the sound. "Hardly fitting behavior for the daughter of a God, don't you think? Flinging yourself relentlessly at a helpless and humble knight…." 

"Humble?" Kaelis joined in his laughter, leaning forward to rest her elbows on Anomen's knees. "I was under the impression that I was flinging myself relentlessly at _you._" 

Anomen laughed again and opened his eyes, sitting up. "Now, that's a bit unfair, don't you think?" 

Kaelis arched a single delicate eyebrow. "Well, you haven't _always_ been so charming, you know…." 

Anomen smiled wryly, deepening the dimples in his tanned cheeks. "Well, perhaps not." He dropped the blankets and rubbed both hands over his face, grunting softly as he tried to push the sleep from his eyes. He dropped his hands and looked around with a sigh, blinking a few times against the morning light. 

"Morning's come already, has it?" He shifted to stretch the muscles of his back, making a face. "I could have used a few more minutes of sleep, you know…." He threw Kaelis an irritated glance that held more than a hint of amusement, and she laughed. 

"Well, tomorrow I just won't wake you." 

A slow smile crept over Anomen's lips, and he slipped his powerful arms around Kaelis' waist, pulling her up into his lap. "Mmm… You won't, will you? Then I fear I will just have to wake _you_…." 

Kaelis laughed and put up a token resistance that faded instantly under Anomen's kiss. His lips were warm, and soft, and she could taste the faintest hint of last night's wine upon them. She sighed softly and circled her arms around his shoulders, tangling her fingers in his tousled hair as she surrendered to his embrace. Anomen groaned softly and pulled Kaelis closer, moving his hands gently over the small of her back. She could have remained there forever, but at last, with a visible effort, Anomen pulled away and looked into her eyes. 

"How long have you been awake?" 

Kaelis smiled, pulling her arms from around his shoulders and laying them on his broad chest. Anomen lifted one of her hands in his own, then pressed it to his lips, his eyes locked on hers. Kaelis smiled, feeling a faint flush coloring her cheeks. "Long enough to realize that you're a silly lovesick fool." 

He laughed quietly, massaging her fingers with his and sending a thrill through her. "Yes, and…?" 

She smiled, leaning forward to kiss him softly. "How long did you sit in that freezing corner, watching _me_ sleep in _your_ bed?" 

Anomen yawned widely and let go of her fingers, rubbing his large hand over his face again. "I managed to sleep for a few hours after you fell asleep. I watched you for some time, and wanted to watch you forever, but…." He smiled and shrugged his massive shoulders, then raised one dark eyebrow with a grin. 

"And I was perfectly comfortable, thank you." 

Kaelis laughed, raising her eyebrows. "Is that so?" She reached forward to brush another lock of hair from Anomen's eyes. 

"Your eyes are supposed to be blue, love." She let her finger trail down his cheek and over his lips. "Your _lips_ are not." 

Anomen gave a low chuckle and pulled her close, his eyes roaming slowly over her face. "Well, to be perfectly honest, my Lady, I _had_ entertained the idea of joining you in the bed, but…." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, returning his eyes to hers. The laughter was still there, but mixed with an intensity that set Kaelis' heart racing. 

"I fear that I did not entirely trust myself." 

Kaelis let out a whispered chuckle and moved to stand, but Anomen kept her close, tightening his arms around her waist. When she looked back at him, the frustrated smile on her lips faded. His own smile had disappeared and he was watching her intently, his eyes moving leisurely over her face as if he were trying to memorize every line, every detail. At last he shook his head softly, whispering in almost reverent awe. 

"You… are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen…." 

Kaelis smiled, looking down as she felt the color rising in her cheeks. She took a deep breath, trying to find the right words… _any_ words, but she was at a complete loss. Anomen paused for a moment, then lifted her chin with his finger and gazed deeply into her eyes. 

"What is it?" 

Kaelis' smile widened slightly and she shook her head, lowering her eyes again. "I… just don't know what to say." 

"Tell me that you love me." 

Kaelis raised her eyes, laughing softly as she lifted a small hand to brush Anomen's hair from his forehead. "I love you, Anomen…." 

He quickly captured her hand with his, curling his fingers around it and holding it next to his chest. Kaelis looked at him in surprise, intertwining his fingers with his as she tilted her head in an unspoken question. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came forth. He tried again, with the same result. The third time, he managed to speak, his words little more than a hoarse whisper. 

"Marry me, Kaelis." 

Kaelis smiled and kissed him softly. "I will, Anomen. You know that. When all of this is over, we can go back to Athkatla and…." 

Anomen shook his head slowly, his sapphire eyes still moving over her face. "No… I want to marry you before another sun sets, Kaelis. This day… this very minute. I… don't think I can spend another night without you in my arms…." He lifted his eyes to hers, swallowing hard before he spoke again. "Please… marry me." 

"Anomen…." Kaelis gazed at him in a stunned silence for several minutes. "I…. " 

"My love…." He searched her eyes, his voice beseeching. 

At last Kaelis looked away, taking a deep breath to force her racing heart into a steady rhythm. "Anomen, we… can't…." She looked up, wordlessly pleading for him to understand. "Not now." 

He cut her off. "Why not?" He laughed quietly and nodded toward the door of the hut. "Nearly two score priests stand outside this tent, Kaelis. As though we need them. I am a priest myself. We could speak our vows this very moment, and none could deny…." 

Kaelis shook her head, frowning as she tried again to pull herself out of Anomen's arms. "No, Anomen. They could. And we couldn't." 

Anomen relented and let her slip away; the smile instantly vanished from his lips. When he spoke, his voice was pained, and held a note of bitter disbelief. "You cannot mean…. Have… you changed your mind, then? Is there to be no future for us?" 

Kaelis looked at him quickly, sighing miserably. "Anomen, I want to be your wife. You know that. But right now I don't think…." 

Anomen stood and took a step toward her, shaking his head. "I don't understand, Kaelis. We are together now, after so long apart. We love each other… There is no reason to delay. If you feel as I do… If you love me as I love you… If you… need me as I need you." 

The frustration and desire in his eyes was unmistakable, and Kaelis swallowed hard against the frightened knot growing in her stomach. She knew how he felt, for she was feeling the same way herself, and wanted nothing more than to rush into his arms and surrender to his passion, but she shook her head and took a single step back. When she spoke, her voice trembled slightly, but she managed to put her thoughts into words. 

"I do, Anomen. Never doubt that I love you. That I need you. More than anything in this world. But it is _because_ I love you that we _must_ wait…." 

Anomen took another step forward, shaking his head slowly. "We _have_ waited, Kaelis. I have followed you to Hell, and back again, faced my darkest fears to be at your side. I have fought beside you, and held you in my arms as you trembled in your dreams. So many nights I watched you sleep, wanting to hear you whisper my name in the darkness, to feel your touch on my skin. I… am only a man, Kaelis. And you…." 

Kaelis took a deep breath. "Anomen…." 

He took a few steps toward her and encircled her again in his arms. She could not resist, and he lifted her chin with a strong finger so that she could not avoid his gaze. "Kaelis, I swore you once that I would wait to love you… Until the time was right. Until I had given you my life, and you had given me the same. Until you were my wife. I ask that of you now." 

She could feel his heart beating heavily behind the cotton tunic, could feel the tension in his arms. He whispered so softly that she barely heard his words. "Why… must we wait another moment?" 

Kaelis took another deep breath and closed her eyes, pulling her chin away from his grip. "Anomen, you know what the Order would say if we married. What the Order has said…." She opened her eyes and lifted them to his again. "What Wessalen has said…." 

"It doesn't matter anymore." Anomen shook his head as Kaelis began to argue, and he pulled her closer until she could feel his breath on her lips. "Listen to me, please." 

"I love you, Kaelis. Not in spite of who you are, but… _because_ of who you are. I have seen you struggle with your destiny, and I cannot pretend to understand what you have been through. My own inner conflict is nothing. But I have seen you face the darkness with such… strength… and gentleness… with laughter, when you had no reason to laugh. You are a light in the shadow. An angel in a realm of demons. If they cannot see… then they are fools. And I no longer care. 

"I want to marry you, Kaelis. To have you always at my side, to hold you always in my arms. To listen to you singing as our sons fall asleep on your ivory shoulder. To wake with you every morning smiling at the memory of your breathless sighs in the night…." 

"Every morning?" 

An ardent smile tugged at the corners of Anomen's mouth. "Every morning, my love…." 

Kaelis laid her forehead against Anomen's firm chest, sighing softly through her own smile. "That doesn't sound so bad, but… There will be time for that, my love. There will be time for all of that. But now it not that time…." 

Anomen slipped his arms from around her, laughing softly as he ran a large hand through his tangled hair. "Perhaps I am alone in my frustration. Do you not find it… difficult… to wait, when we are here now… together? Do you not wish…?" 

Kaelis laughed quietly, then took a trembling breath as her eyes took in Anomen's figure. His tunic was open at the neck, revealing an impressive expanse of bronzed chest, a faint dusting of dark hair. His broad shoulders strained at the fabric of the tunic, and even now she could see the smooth rippling of the muscles in his arms. His hair fell over his shoulders in disheveled waves and clung to the moisture of his full, smiling lips. She took another deep breath, whispering. 

"You have no idea…." 

Kaelis watched him for several moments. Suddenly Anomen took a single step forward. He said nothing, but almost unconsciously took her face in his hands, his eyes dropping hungrily to her lips. "Don't I?" 

Kaelis could say nothing. Anomen moved slowly closer, his lips parting slightly in expectation as they drew near to hers. He brushed her lips with his once, as lightly as a breath, then raised his head and looked into Kaelis' eyes. He spoke quietly, but adamantly, his voice moving smoothly through the words. 

"I, Anomen Delryn, son of Cor and Moirala, pledge my life to you, Kaelis, daughter of…." 

Kaelis shook her head softly, suddenly understanding. "Anomen…." 

He shook his head, not pausing in his words. "Kaelis, daughter of…." 

Kaelis opened her mouth to speak again, but both Kaelis _and_ Anomen were interrupted by a sudden knock at the door. Kaelis looked quickly at the doorway, unsure whether to be angry or relieved. Though she _should_ have been relieved, she recognized what Anomen had been about to do, and though she _should_ have been angry with him, she found that it was very difficult. 

Anomen, in turn, sighed and closed his eyes, his shoulders slumping slightly as he said wearily, "Yes?" 

A young knight that Kaelis recognized as Andren peered into the hut, coloring slightly as he saw the rather personal position in which Kaelis and Anomen found themselves. He flashed an apologetic, almost bashful smile at Kaelis before looking at Anomen. 

"I beg your pardon, my Lord, but… Sir Ryan Trawl has arrived." 

"Sir… Ryan?" The surprise very nearly pushed the disillusionment from Anomen's voice. 

"Yes, Sir." The young knight seemed somewhat excited. "He has brought a fresh contingent from Athkatla, no less than two hundred men, my Lord." He glanced quickly at Kaelis. 

"As well as the Lady's companions. Begging your pardon, Sir Anomen… my Lady, but… Sir Ryan wishes to speak with the both of you as soon as possible." Andren smiled wryly. "And the druid Jaheira has been… _demanding_ to speak with the Lady since the moment she arrived." 

Anomen looked at Kaelis, an unspoken question in his sapphire gaze. Kaelis looked at Anomen for several heartbreaking moments in silence. She knew what answer he was waiting for, but she was suddenly terrified, and turned to Andren. She hoped her voice was not shaking as badly as her hands. 

"Of… Of course. Just let me find my…." She stopped as Anomen held out her long woolen cloak. She had not asked for it, but he offered it anyway. He was studiously avoiding her eyes. Kaelis took the cloak from his hands without a word, fighting the piercing ache in her heart as she looked at his slightly drooping shoulders. 

"Anomen…." 

He shook his head. "Go, Kaelis. There will be time for that…." He echoed her words, his voice catching on the last. He continued. "There will be time for all of that, but this is not that time." 

Kaelis nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I love you, Anomen." 

Anomen looked up, smiling faintly, though it did not reach his eyes. "I know. And I love you." 

Kaelis watched him a moment longer, then turned and followed Andren out of the tent. As she walked away from the tiny shelter, she almost thought she could hear a muffled cry. Then a dull thud, as if a large body had fallen unheeding on a very small cot, and a metallic crash as if one piece of armor had been thrown against another. 

Kaelis slowed her steps, then stopped. She turned and looked back at Anomen's tent, almost taking a step back. After a long moment, Andren looked back at her, confusion in his eyes. 

"My Lady?" 

After another long pause, Kaelis looked up into the soldier's questioning brown eyes. She nodded slightly, then began to move forward again, gripping the shoulders of her cloak until her knuckles turned white. Her words disappeared quickly into the wind, but she spoke them anyway. 

"I'm sorry, Anomen." 


End file.
